


What Now?

by ForbiddenPisces



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Infertility, Lemon, Mikhail Varshavski - Freeform, dr mike, really this is my first time writing anything and i don't know what i'm doing don't judge me, this is based on dr mike
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25160638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenPisces/pseuds/ForbiddenPisces
Summary: Michael Vale is the man who every woman wants to lock down; every man wants to be; and every mother wants to have as their son-in-law: a brilliant, handsome doctor with too much money and a dashing smile. When Michael's latest dog walker reminds him of her departure, he's suddenly left in a pinch. He needs a new walker to keep up with his two large, mischievous canines, while he attends to his clinic patients and his flourishing medicine-based YouTube channel. And he needs them NOW.In comes Dione Samuels: a spritely, ball of infectious energy who doesn't know the meaning of stillness, consistency, or relationships, but she's no stranger to breaking hearts. A film scholar, pole instructor, and part time dog rescuer, she never says "no" to additional streams of income, though she doesn't need the money. She needs the "busy" to keep her own sanity, so when a dear friend introduces her to a handsome doctor  seeking a new dog walker, well - who is she to look a gift horse in the mouth?
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	1. A Sense of Normalcy

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive me for any formatting errors! I'm really new to HTML formatting/publishing my work online at all. Please give me feedback also! Yeah...um...still not sure how this works, but i'm doing my darnedest.  
> Thank you for reading :)

**Chapter 1**

His feet on the pavement were a measured beat against the early dawn cacophony of traffic. He felt his pulse in his face, syncopating to the rhythm of his jog. Washington Square Park was so lovely this time of day, before rush hour but after sunrise. His breath created warm wisps before him on his way back home. He took the concrete steps two at a time, gave a gentle smile to the doorman, and continued to the elevator. The opulence of his building was not lost on him, though it was not his style. The brass fixtures, dark hardwood floors, hideous chandelier – it all screamed colonial relic merged into the 1960s. But his penthouse had the best view of the city, and he only saw the ugly when he entered or exited the building. His suite fit his aesthetic perfectly. Everything was geometric, bright, and modern. The grays, blacks, whites, tans…it was all exactly him. Orderly, neat, and shiny.

Dr. Michael Vale swung open the door to his 8th floor home and was immediately smothered in slobbery kisses from his two fur children. He squatted, grabbed them both in his arms, and loved them. “Oh, how are my happy boys? I’m sorry I left without saying bye. Genevieve will be here to hang out with you two today so you can get your hair cut and your nails filed and maybe a bath because honestly, Bertie, what on _earth_ did you roll in yesterday? Jesus, you smell like someone pulled you from the river and covered you in hot sauce.” A gentle twinkle sounded from his phone and he plugged in a Bluetooth earbud. “This is Dr. Mike.”

“Michael, hey – sorry to call you so early.”

“No worries, Jane. What’s up?”

“The Kaufman family is here at the office—”

“Shit, I thought my first visit wasn’t until—”

“No, Mike, the twins started vomiting in the middle of the night almost simultaneously and Mom’s freaked out. I told her that you were full today, but—”

“No, no—I can be there in an hour. Will that be alright? Can they wait that long?”

“I’ll ask, but Mike, your first appointment isn’t for another—”

“Jane, nobody else knows the twins like I do. I was in the O.R. when they were born, and they respond well to me. I’ll be there soon, okay? Just tell Mrs. Kaufman to hold on. Give the kids a couple of bags, and I’ll be there in a flash.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Thank you, Jane.” He put the earbud down and stared sadly at the two dogs panting at him. “I was going to take you guys for a walk and now…shit. Let me see if Gen can come by earlier to get you guys outside.” He tapped his phone screen quickly and a brief _PING_ sound came immediately after. “Dammit. I forgot she’s moving this week. I haven’t even thought about a new one—no, it’s fine. Okay, don’t worry, boys. I’ll have someone come around ASAP.” He jogged past his loyal canines and trotted down a hallway and presumably toward a shower.

Hours later, he trudged through the hallways of the clinic, a stethoscope looped around his neck and his glasses perched crookedly on his nose. He sat down in a plain office chair and huffed a long sigh. He checked his phone and saw a flurry of messages from his neighbor, saying the dogs had been lovely but a bit withdrawn, noting that neither of them had eaten their dinner. _Wait, did I eat dinner?_ Mike asked himself. He closed his eyes a moment before a quiet knock startled him. He grinned at Jane, a portly middle-aged black woman, holding a large Tupperware container. She smirked at him, “I’m going home, but I didn’t eat this salad for lunch. Want it?”

“Jane, you are an angel.” Mike took the container greedily, which made Jane laugh.

“Mike, you’re gonna have to figure out how to feed yourself.”

He smiled over a forkful of lettuce. “I forgot my lunch at home! It was a good one, too. Lemon garlic chicken on a bed of zoodles and a fresh balsamic glaze. I spent all day planning my meals, but medicine waits for no one.”

“You goofy boy – you make sure you go home early tonight. Came in early, it’s the least you could do.” Jane left the office, and Mike waited until he heard the clinic door shut before closing his eyes again, salad bowl in hand, to catch a 5-minute nap.

Across the river and into Manhattan, Dione sat in a butterfly position on the marley floor. A sensual R&B track played through her giant wireless headphones. She rolled her head, her shoulders, stretching side to side. She stood suddenly as the crescendo built into the chorus, and she walked a slow circle around the tall, silver pole in the center of the studio. She latched on and began to dance, hooking her knees, ankles, arms, thighs around the pole and spinning, her head tilted back as the music continued to pulsate around and through her. As the song came to an end, she opened her eyes and saw Maya standing in the doorway, her hands parked amusedly against her narrow hips. Dione pushed her headphones back, “What did you say?”

“I said we’re closing up shop for the night, babe. You gotta go.”

“Is it nine o’clock already?”

“Afraid so, Di. Come on. Put your sweats on, and I’ll walk out with you.”

Dione grabbed her things and followed Maya around the studio as she turned out lights, blew out candles, and powered down stereos. They were quiet, but comfortably so. Maya set the alarm and followed Dione outside into the pleasant June night. As she locked the door, Maya cleared her throat. “You know, Di, I’ve been watching you dance lately. You’re athletic, strong, elegant, and you’re fun to look at.”

Dione cocked her head, a small grin on her face. “I’m fun to look at?”

They took off down the steps and headed for the corner. “I’m not saying that in a bad way! I mean, it’s like…you’re captivating. That’s what I’m saying.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” Dione giggled and turned her head down, a flush creeping up her neck. Maya had seen her from the beginning, so to know she was impressed with Dione’s improvement, sent a thrill of pride through her body.

“No problem. I was thinking…maybe we could dance together sometime? Or you could come be a co-teacher in one of my classes.” Maya turned to Dione as they waited at the intersection. She wanted to gauge Dione’s reaction to her request. Unsurprisingly, Dione began to laugh.

“You want to dance with me?”

“Absolutely, you’re talented, and I think we could create something dope. Besides,” Maya said casually, flipping her long hair over her shoulder as she crossed the street. “I figure if your class goes well, maybe you’ll consider teaching and actually earning money for your talents on the pole.”

Dione swallowed hard. Maya’s slender black body seemed completely out of place beside Dione’s. Where Dione was thick, Maya was thin; where the former was short, the latter was tall; one was plush and soft, whereas the other was rigid and taut. Dione had light eyes, a round face, flat nose, and unyielding curly brown hair. Maya, on the other hand, was black like the earth, and everything about her was intense. From the angles of her cheekbones to the deep brown of her eyes, it was as if she were cut from a mountainside. There was a ferocity to her gaze that would make any unsuspecting man crumble before her, which was great for living and owning a pole studio in Manhattan, and not bad for snaring one of the richest surgeons in the tri-state area. Maya and Lucas lived a life of luxury Dione had only sampled when in her presence or at her home.

Maya continued, “I mean, the deal we came up with for studio time in exchange for dog sitting…I don’t know. It worked when I first opened the studio, but I think we’ve both grown past it, don’t you?”

Dione shrugged, “I’ll think about it.”

Maya turned and grinned, “Thank you. I gotta run, but text me when you get home. Maybe we can put a routine together this week and showcase it at class on Friday. Oh! And don’t forget about my mom’s office party! I’ll pick you up at 7?” She had already started to walk away. It was less of a question and more of an expectation. Dione could only wave in response before continuing toward her building near Washington Square Park. The cool breeze was refreshing against her skin, and she decided that a long walk would be good for her. She put her headphones back on and started up her pole playlist, imagining what a routine for the two of them could look like.

When she finally made it home, she opened the door to her dark apartment and nearly tripped over the tripod that had fallen across the threshold. She braced herself against the wall, groping for a light switch. Her one-bedroom apartment was surprisingly spacious, a gift from the university and her grandparents. Hardwood flooring, covered by plush rugs, and a kaleidoscopic set of living room furniture and plants, none of which were living. She liked to give off the illusion that she could keep anything besides herself alive, but not have to face the responsibility of doing so. She righted the tripod, slipped out of her jacket and bag, and continued to the kitchen. She stared into her empty refrigerator for a beat before she closed the door, opened a drawer overflowing with takeout menus, and pulled up a Thai restaurant.

“Hi, it’s Di from 220... Could I get my usual, please? And can you add two spring rolls?... Oh, and can you make it spicy?... Come on, Malee, you know I can take the heat…. Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you soon.”

The bottle of wine was already opened, and a glass already poured before she got off the phone. Dione crossed her legs underneath her, put on a pair of glasses, and settled into a barstool, a shiny MacBook whirring to life on the counter in front of her. Music played quietly from a Bluetooth speaker nearby, the television in the living room was on and muted. The amount of stimulation would make any rational person overwhelmed, but Dione was thriving. When her food arrived around midnight, she ate haphazardly, only finishing some of it before tucking it into the fridge. She stood, stretched a bit, and dove back into her work, standing with one foot perched inside her thigh. Her head shot up at the sound of a dog’s bark, muffled through her ceiling. She grinned up at the apartment above.


	2. Exercising Egos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again!
> 
> this is chapter 2. i think this story will be a slow burn, but once it's lit, the flames are fast. too much metaphor? probably.
> 
> anyway, enjoy!  
> Let me know what you think <3  
> xoxo forbiddenpisces

6am: the loud trill of her alarm pulled her from her work. Dione had wrapped up a myriad of to-do list items, including picking up her clothes from the ground and cleaning her rarely used bedroom of dust and extraneous papers. She changed into a new pair of sweatpants, tied her shoes on, and left her building with her giant headphones over her ears.

Once outside the air was thick, and she thanked the voice inside her head for reminding her to ditch the jacket. The sun was just barely shimmering from behind its blue-black nightgown, painting the east side of the Manhattan skyline into an array of glinting windows. Her playlist today was exactly what she needed: a mix of soca, bachata, merengue, and other Caribbean genres. She felt alive and rested, despite not having slept, and her hips wanted to wind to the rhythm of the music. She cut through the mostly empty park, save for a few other early joggers, one of whom had a pair of hyperactive distracted dogs attached to his sides with two leashes hooked around his waist. Dione couldn’t help but giggle as the poor owner struggled to keep a pace while the dogs wound their way between his legs, tangled their leashes, and tried to chase squirrels. As Dione neared, she noticed that the dogs found her far more fascinating than any other distraction and tried mightily to greet her. The owner gave up and allowed the canines to pull him around.

Dione slowed to a stop and crouched in front of the dogs, her voice switching into one of adoration. “You are so handsome, yes, you are. You are good doggies. What is your name? Yes, what’s your name, precious?” She felt around for a collar but found only tags for recent vaccines and one with a phone number. She looked up and saw the bluest eyes she could’ve ever imagined. She sincerely believed this man had to be the god of some heavenly realm because no mortal man would have the audacity to look that good so early in the morning. He was tucked into a long sleeve spandex running shirt, and his body looked like he was molded from a glacier, white and jagged and unrelenting and positively dangerous. She felt a heat rush her cheeks as she dragged her gaze upward to his neck, jawline, and thin-lipped smile. Wait, he was smiling? Did he say something? She cocked her head and felt astutely aware of the music that pulsed into her ears. Fuck! She whipped the headphones off swiftly and stood up, her cheeks positively aflame.

“Hi,” she uttered shyly, fiddling with the flyaway hairs that most certainly escaped her bun.

“Hi.” Oh God, his voice sounded like campfire smores on a late September night: sweet and crackled and gooey and cool. He kept his smile and folded his arms over his chest. Their silence was chaotic. Dione’s chest rose and fell, both from her run and from her extreme embarrassment. She looked at his eyes again and found only a spark of mischief. The two dogs danced eagerly between them, nipping playfully at one another and sniffing at Dione’s legs.

“I um…sorry I interrupted your walk.” She tried to swallow but couldn’t seem to work her muscles properly.

“No, no – don’t apologize. I’m sorry we interrupted your run.”

“Not an interruption I mind, if I’m honest.” Dione reached a hand to fluff the giant brown dog behind the ears. “I love dogs.” Her smile was light as she realized she could speak to this man about his dogs without feeling embarrassed or itchy or…achy, in that way. She knew her way around canine companions and longed for the day she could have her own. In the meantime, these dogs and their delectable owner could tide her over until the next walking or sitting gig she pulled.

He scratched the other dog – the black and white husky with similarly striking blue eyes – right on the back. “They love you, too, it seems.”

She loved to hear that, truly, and her face betrayed her pleasure. “What are their names?”

He pointed them out in turn, starting with the drooling Newfoundland who was licking her palm. “That lover is Bear, he’s about a year-and-a-half, and then this handsome boy,” indicating to the gorgeous husky, “is Bertie. He’s ten or eleven, I think. Maybe—I’m not sure, I’ve had him forever.”

“They’re so sweet.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty charming. I’m surprised, though. They don’t typically take such vested interest in people. And if they do, it’s rarely with much immediate affection.”

The two dogs now sat at her feet, gazing at her or nuzzling their snouts into her hand. She returned their gestures with her own tender pats. She looked up to his eyes again to see a curious smirk cross his lips. He suddenly stuck out his hand, “I’m Michael, but you can call me Mike.”

“I’m Dione, but you can call me Di.” The moment her palm touched his, she felt a paralyzing shock ripple up her spine. They held their hands together for two breaths too long.

“Dione,” he said it slowly, emphasizing the way his tongue tapped his teeth. “I don’t meet many Diones.”

She shrugged, slipped her hand from his grasp, and quirked an eyebrow at him. “I can’t say the same for ‘Michaels’.”

“No, I guess that’s true. Your mother definitely wins for creativity.”

They gazed at each other, holding their breaths and waiting on the other to make a move or do something besides stare. Dione was nothing, if not competitive, and she found the heavy silence exhilarating. She homed in on him and held her smirk. She watched as his eyes traveled slowly down her body, lingering on her chest and hips, before flitting back up. He finally broke, grinning widely and rubbing a hand over his face. He laughed with no humor. “Dione, Dione – do you know who I am?”

She raised her brow as his tone took a sharp left into arrogant annoyance. She crossed her arms and her voice dripped with a warning. “Um…your name is Michael?”

“No, I mean…have you seen me before? Perhaps online?” he wore a knowing, disappointed grin.

Dione flashed through her mental rolodex of online personalities and influencers she followed, but none of them resembled him. She shook her head with a forgiving smile, “Nope, sorry. The only people I really pay attention to online are drag queens, femmes of color, the New York Public Library, and a bunch of Indie filmmakers.”

“Really? So, I’m not familiar to you at all? Are you on YouTube?” he started to laugh, and Dione immediately regretted stopping to chat with him. “I’m Dr. Mike – I’ve got over 4 million subscribers. You’ve never seen me on the trending page?”

Dione shook her head and put her headphones back in place. “Nope, can’t say I have. Have a nice walk.” And with that she ran past him without another look. She didn’t need to meet another high-and-mighty pseudo-celebrity when she was surrounded by them at her day job. NYU was full of undergrads just aching for someone to recognize them for their assumed star potential. Despite looking like a sexpot on legs, Dr. Mike was not her cup of tea. She added a tally to her running list of “Why Dating in New York is Impossible” list; surely, she was beyond item 100. She returned to her jog and tried to shake the image of his icy blue eyes from her memory.


	3. A Fantasy is All You Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike & Dione treat themselves to some ~*personal time*~ following their brief run-in, each indulging in a selfish kind of pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter  
> another chance for some feedback? <3
> 
> what do you think?
> 
> xoxo  
> forbiddenpisces

Dr. Mike stood there in the park for a long moment after the cute woman ran off. He stewed in his embarrassing choices, while his dogs found this the perfect time to roll around in a pile of goose shit. He sighed through his nose and moved toward his apartment just on the corner. He tried to swallow his embarrassment, both from his smelly animals clipped to his waist and from the ridiculously cocky attitude he held when talking to Dione. Upstairs, he locked the dogs in his office-turned-canine playroom, tossing in a couple of towels. He’d have to address the stench later.

Now, he needed to turn his attention to this afternoon’s office party. He ensured his schedule would be clear of appointments so he could focus his energy on preparing the office for the festivities. He plopped onto his couch and spurred his laptop to life. Absently he began to type, and he was surprised when he pulled up a Google results page for the search term “dione”. He internally scolded himself for being entranced by someone who was probably disgusted with him, but he read through the first link greedily. As he learned he saw the name begin to fit around the memory of her curves. In his mind’s eye he saw the “D” outfitted against her, carving out the dip between her hip and ribs; the “i” in her stick straight posture; the “o” in the swell of her breasts; the “n” in the space between her thighs; and the “e” in the ease of her smile. Fuck, he was hard thinking about it. He lifted the laptop to see his erection straining against the fabric of his athletic shorts. “I’ll deal with you later,” he said in a valiant effort to squish his desires. The quick throb indicating as a response: you’ll deal with me now.

Mike groaned outwardly before he dropped the computer and slid his hands down the front of his pants. He pulled his penis out with one hand and got to work. There was no warmup, no foreplay – just straight to the point. He didn’t even start slowly. He fisted the tender skin and pumped erratically. For his fantasy, he walked through the morning’s activities with his guest star, creating a different ending where instead of running off in repulsion she came back with him to his apartment. His eyes fluttered shut as he pictured what she wore under her running gear; what her skin tasted like; how her body responded to his touch. The picture that led to his ultimate undoing was imagining her pretty mouth wrapped around his cock while they locked eyes. Oooh, that was good.

Trails of his release coated the back of his hand and t-shirt. He sighed heavily. He really liked that shirt – it was warm, breathe-able, and came from one of his channel sponsors – so to see it now streaked with his seed made his stomach burn. He tilted his head back to relish in the aftershocks of orgasm before he had to continue about his day. He pulled off his shirt, wiped his hands, slipped out of his shorts, and tossed everything into the hamper in his bedroom. He desperately needed a shower to wash off his morning’s various activities and to clean his mind of the very dirty things he was craving to experience with a stranger.

As he stood with his eyes closed under the hot water, his mind wandered to his dogs. “Ah, dammit,” he said aloud as he realized that he needed to add another item to his to-do list that was unrelated to that afternoon’s party. While he washed, he mentally wrote down the job description for his next dog walker.

He’d been lucky to find Genevieve so soon after he moved to Manhattan when his channel took off last year. She was a pre-med student at NYU and desperately needed money, and he and his husky were freshly dumped of their respective playmates. Back then, Mike was worried about Bertie getting the socialization he needed to stay sane. They had gone from two people and two dogs, living in a townhome in the western part of Pennsylvania, with all kinds of grassy areas for Bertie and Pumpkin to explore—to the mean streets of metropolitan life as bachelors in an apartment, where tickets were the reward for any dogs off-leash, the terrible air quality made it hard to enjoy time outdoors, and Mike was busier than ever.

In a moment of absolute guilt-laden weakness, he sought out a new playmate for his adult husky and found Bear at a shelter after having been surrendered when the owners were forced into a smaller home and couldn’t keep up with his breed’s giant size. It was definitely a long courtship before Bertie decided that Bear wasn’t a total waste of time, and they’d grown to be very close. And right as Mike thought he was going to have to surrender Bear or his channel, Genevieve plopped into his life. Well, she was ushered into his life by a lovestruck friend who was finishing up his residency at NYU. And now, a year later, Genevieve was moving on to a new hospital; his friend was following her; and he was left up shit creek without a paddle or a dogwalker.

**********

At NYU’s central film office, Dione perched at a huge oak desk, her body surrounded by three massive, sleek Mac monitors. She typed absently, her headphones now plugged into the computer in front of her. A few minutes passed before she took them off and stood. She knocked on the wood paneled door behind her, and a spritely white girl with a blunt, died-black bob and too many facial piercings popped her head out.

“We’re literally in the middle of the recording,” she grumbled.

Dione nodded, “Yeah, I know, but I’ve been watching your levels and you’re super blown out. Take it down a bit and start over.”

“Shit, really? Ugh! Nathan, turn it down a bit.”

A voice came from inside the soundproof room. “How do I do that?”

The white girl rolled her eyes, “I just have to do everything myself. Thanks, Di.” She closed the door, and Dione returned to her desk.

Students filtered in and out of the small room for the remaining hours of her workday, but Dione paid them very little mind unless it was to comment on their poor audio quality. She spent her time scouring over dailies, checking animation transitions, and grading a variety of papers. She checked out gear to a couple of students, but for the most part, she was in her own little world of scrubbing film and listening to whatever songs came through her playlist.

And daydreaming about a particular blue-eyed babe from her morning jog. Every time she remembered what he looked like, his thin-lipped smirk and the definition of his arms, she felt her thighs quiver and her belly start to ache in that very specific way. She may or may not have counted down the hours until her day was over, looking forward to the moment she could return home to her favorite toys and revisit her morning fantasy.

As the sun started to fall behind the skyline, she finally took a break. She meditated in the loneliness around her, but it was short lived. Her cell phone started playing a little jingle. “Hey, Maya—what’s up?” Dione stretched her arms overhead.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at work.”

“Seriously? Di, I told you I was picking you up at 7.”

“Yeah, I’ve got plenty of time.”

“It’s 6:30.”

“So?” She was still hoping for some alone time, wanting to knock off a bit of stress before being subjected to a dull office party. She hated clinics almost as much as she hated silence. But she loved Maya, and that was enough.

“Di—this is my mom’s office party. You can’t walk in looking like a scrub. Have you even showered today?”

“I mean—no, but I…. Fine, I won’t look like a scrub.”

“I’ll see you in front of your building in 30 minutes.”

Click. Maya didn’t need to know the real reason she didn’t shower this morning. Dione quickly flashed to her jog, her return home, and the ninety minutes after which she spent watching too many videos of one such Dr. Mike. And then she had a few moments of…personal time when she couldn’t get his eyes and the way he fit in that shirt out of her head.


	4. Party Proposals

Chapter 4

Dione looked out at the flashing lights of the city as they drove over the bridge into New Jersey. She and Maya exchanged playlists and talked more about dancing until the long car ride was over and they pulled up to the clinic. Only a few cars scattered the parking lot. “Gotta be honest, Maya. This looks like a snooze fest.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. We’re the life of the party!” Maya shook the cake pan full of dip to indicate that indeed this dish was what could bring a party to its full potential. They strode up to the front doors and were immediately greeted by Maya’s mother, Jane. “Hi, mama, how are you?”

“I’m fine, baby. How are you doing?” Jane released her daughter and moved to Dione. “Dione Samuels—it has been too long, dear.” Dione was smothered in a hug and tilted from side to side.

“Thank you for letting me tag along tonight.” The three women moved through the clinic lobby toward a large conference room behind the registration desk. Jane removed the lid from the cake pan and gestured for the young women to remove their coats.

“No need to thank me, Di. Lucas had originally agreed to bring Maya because lord knows she wouldn’t be coming alone. Is that a camera I see?”

Dione nodded and took her DSLR off her shoulder. “Yeah, sorry—thinking about it now I probably shouldn’t have brought this in with all the confidential info around here. I can leave it in an office or in a desk drawer, if that would be better?”

Jane shook her head and ushered the girls back into the lobby where a few more guests were milling about. “No, no—I was actually thinking, since you brought it, maybe you could get a few pictures to update the website? The renovation hasn’t been captured on camera, yet, if you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all, Jane. I’m more comfortable behind a lens than anywhere else.”

“Dione, don’t you dare leave me here alone.” Maya grabbed Dione’s arm.

“Well then come with me! I can take a few headshots for you.”

The two took off to meander through the office, pausing every once in a while to capture moments of joy as colleagues greeted one another and their families. Time was passing more quickly, people were drinking and eating and reveling in each other’s company. Before too long, Dione and Maya had made a full circuit through the guests and landed back at the reception area, shoveling food into their mouths. Dione leaned against the desk and flicked through the images on her camera. She moved toward Maya with a grin, “Look at how cute your mom is.” They stared at the screen and giggled at the photo.

“Oh, my God—is that Maya Mackey?”

Dione’s shoulders tensed and the hair stuck up on the back of her neck. She knew that voice. Maya looked up and her face broke out into an eccentric grin. “Michael Vale!” Maya wrapped her arms around the man in a warm hug. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in…what has it been? Three years?”

Dione tucked her head into her chest and turned away from the two of them.

Mike shrugged, “Me? I work here—what on earth are you doing here? Is Lucas around? I’d love to catch up!”

“No, Lucas is away at a conference, but I brought a friend instead. Let me introduce you.”

Dione’s pulse skyrocketed, and she felt a dull ache between her thighs as Maya’s hand landed firmly on her shoulder and spun her around. The minute she glanced up into those icy blue eyes she began to flush. There was Dr. Mike, standing in the flesh before her again, and looking as gorgeous as ever with a long-sleeve grey Henley shirt French-tucked into black skinny pants. God, his thighs are incredible. Dione swallowed harshly as a dim light of realization cast over Mike’s face. His eyes flashed from confusion, to elation, to regret, and settled finally on professional. He stuck out his hand and grinned, “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Dione.”

She slid her palm against his and nodded slyly, “Yes, it’s been a while, Michael. Or should I call you Dr. Mike?” She cocked her head to the side and watched as his face fell into embarrassment at the mention of his YouTube persona.

Maya took a step back, “Wait, you two know each other?”

Dione was the first to look away and address Maya’s question. “We met this morning actually in the park.”

Mike turned finally, “Yeah, my dogs pulled me right into the middle of her run.”

“Your dog! Yes, how is your little guy doing? What was his name? Bernie?”

Together, Mike and Dione said, “Bertie.”

Mike flashed Dione a playful smile, “You remembered.”

“Your dogs were quite the charmers.”

“Wow, you’ve had him for a long time. How’s Cassie? Is she here?” Maya flicked her head from side to side in search.

Mike coughed, “Cassie and I…we broke up, actually…a little over a year ago.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t mention it. What about you and Lucas, huh? Still going strong?”

“Yes, we just celebrated five years in January!”

“That’s great—what is he up to, now?”

As the two old friends continued their conversations, Dione slipped away to take more photos. She wandered through the offices, taking her own personal tour of the clinic and gathering as much content as possible. The patient rooms were far more spacious than she had ever anticipated in a standard neighborhood clinic, but the offices themselves were a bit of a tight squeeze. She stopped in one particular office where a gold placard on the door read “Dr. Michael J. Vale, DO.” The space was mostly impersonal, but beside his computer monitor were several photos of himself with his dogs and with an older couple, presumably his parents. She touched lightly over one of the frames and almost dropped it when her cell phone started to ring.

She answered it with her heart in her throat. “Hello?”

“Dione, where’d you go?” Maya asked on the other line.

Through the door, Dione heard footsteps approaching and Mike’s voice echoed as he said, “Let me just grab my card!” She hung up her phone and danced around the room anxiously trying to either find a place to hide or look less conspicuous. But in no time, Mike swung open his office door and slammed into Dione. He groaned as the camera lens plunged into his stomach.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Dione rushed to squeeze the camera out from between their bodies. They were close enough now she could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“What are you doing back here?”

She expected him to be angry or threatened, but he seemed mostly amused. She took a step back; he took a step forward. She looked up to see his eyes like molten sapphire. She swallowed hard, straightened her spine. “I was just taking pictures.”

He smirked and grabbed her camera, their fingers brushing for a moment. “I can see that.” He flipped through some of the photos. When he was satisfied with his search, he gave the camera back. He quirked an eyebrow as she swung the camera around her neck. “Maya and I were just talking about you—”

“Oh, there you are! Did Mike tell you my idea?” Speak of the devil. Maya stepped into the room, and Dione moved to the far wall.

She shook her head, “What idea?”

“Michael was telling me all about how his dog walker is moving, and he needs a new one ASAP. I told him you’ve been walking Lulu and Frank for almost a year, and since you guys are basically neighbors, I figured—”

“What?” Dione’s voice shot up an octave unintentionally.

“Yeah! Isn’t that great? You guys just live across the park from one another. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t run into each other before today. Anyway, I convinced him that you’re essentially a dog-whisperer and canines love you and he’d be lucky to have you in his contacts as his go-to dog person. Oh! And since you work nearby his apartment, I told him you could take lunch time walks with the dogs, too.”

“Wow, Maya, you sure told him a lot.”

Mike laughed, “Yeah, she made a lot of promises that I should really ask you about.”

Maya clapped her hands. “Yes! Talk! I have to call Lucas and tell him I ran into you. When you guys are all finished, maybe we can all carpool back into the city.” And like that she swished away, back toward the clinic’s lobby. Mike closed the door behind her, and Dione felt her thighs squeeze together.

“So…” he dragged, raising his brows in her direction.

Dione waved her hands, “Sorry about all this. I shouldn’t have gone off by myself.”

“Forget it. I’m not worried. Maya told me what Jane asked of you, so I really should be thanking you for your work.”

“Right, yeah…no problem.”

They stared at each other, and the air felt electric. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he finally blurted. “I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you this morning.”

Dione smirked but said nothing. She merely nodded for him to continue.

“I acted like a real douche bag, and I promise I’m not that way in real life. I thought you were maybe a fan of my channel or something, or maybe you recognized me from TV. I don’t know. It wasn’t cool, and I’m really sorry.”

Dione loved that he was squirming for her forgiveness. It gave her a power trip she didn’t necessarily need. She took a calculated step toward him and cocked her head. “Is that all?”

He swallowed and averted his gaze. “I really, really regret it. I don’t make a point of coming off as an arrogant bastard to pretty girls.” His face flushed, and his chiseled jaw quivered momentarily. Dione raised her brows when he sought her face. “Please forgive me.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” she hummed and took another step, a wicked grin smearing her lips. “You did just call me pretty, and I think your dogs are the most adorable creatures.”

He broke into a smile. “Are they my saving grace here?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll let it slide this time. It was early. You’re a celebrity. You know,” she smirked and stepped forward again. They were now only a few inches from one another, and she could see his heartbeat shift his t-shirt. He swallowed loudly when she looked up and fluttered her lashes. “Since we’re declaring a fresh start, what should I call you?”

He shivered, “Um, you can call me Michael, or Mike, or really whatever you want.”

“I like Michael, if that’s alright?” Dione savored the way it felt on her tongue.

“Yes, absolutely, and what should I call you?” he lifted his hand between them.

She smiled broadly and accepted his palm. “Your newest dog walker?”


	5. Suds & Stairwells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW CHAPTER ADDED BC WHY FINISH A STORY WHEN I COULD SIMPLY ADD MORE CHAPTERS TO THE MIDDLE???  
> seriously who let me have access to my old chapters  
> anyway. here's a middle chapter just for shits & gigs
> 
> xoxo  
> ForbiddenPisces

Mike didn’t want to admit it, but he was hooked. Sure, they’d only met that day, but after catching her in his office, he spent the rest of the night yearning to be in close quarters with her again. The ghostly pressure of her palm in his sent goosebumps up his arm. For the duration of the party he could think of nothing else but her coy smirk and those perfect, heart-shaped lips. Knowing he was going to spend at least an hour with her on their drive back to the city gave him fanciful ideas that were inappropriate to entertain outside the privacy of his own home.

As the party wound to its end, Mike couldn’t help but fidget nervously in the staff lounge, washing and rewashing dishes while Dione and Maya escorted people back to their vehicles with mountains of Tupperware. What pulled his attention away first was a hand on his back which, despite its gentleness, gave him a jolt. He spun to see Jane and her round cheeks beaming up at him. “You okay, honey? You look a bit flushed.”

He swallowed. “Right, no, yeah I’m fine.”

“You sure? Let me feel you,” she gestured for him to lean down. A cool, shea-buttered hand pressed into his forehead. “Hm…no fever. Did you eat something—”

A shutter and momentary flash caught them off guard. Mike flipped to the threshold to see Dione’s lens aimed right at them, and those damn lips smiling behind it. She replaced the cap and swung the camera around her shoulder. “Sorry, it was a cute moment.” When he caught her eyes, he offered a weak grin and thought it the perfect time to wave a soap-soaked hand in her direction. Which was obviously a mistake, considering that hand also held an impeccably clean bowl of bubbly water.

Suds landed on the front of Jane’s blouse, splattering the light blue button down with darker patches. Mike tried to hide his blush by furiously jumping into action to dry her off, in the meantime splashing more soapy water onto the floor. “Ah, dammit! Sorry, Jane, I didn’t—”

“You watch your mouth, Michael.”

“Shit—I mean, shoot—I mean—” he froze for a beat and turned his head to Dione. A fluttering hand was pressed against her mouth, but the lines around her eyes couldn’t hide her giggling.

_Dammit._ He was smooth, suave, YouTube sensation, _Men’s Health_ centerfold Dr. Michael James Vale. Not this awkward, fumbling doofus. He cleared his throat and refocused his attention on Jane, who had mostly dried herself off with a hand towel by the time he came around. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

She arched a single graying brow, flicked her gaze to Dione in the corner, and hummed. “Mhmm, that’s okay. Happens to the best of us.” Michael could’ve sworn he saw her wink before turning away and walking out the door, still pressing the cotton fabric against her chest. “Maya, honey—you coming over to see your dad?” she hollered, leaving Dione and him staring at each other across the room.

A beat of inescapable tension passed, where they were nothing but rosy cheeks and playful smirks. It was Dione who approached him first, slinging her camera onto a card table and slipping her jacket off. Just the peek of silken, chestnut skin on her shoulders made Mike’s stomach tense. Shaking her head, her curls sprung out around her face like a halo. She grabbed a roll of paper towels from the counter, knelt on the ground and started wiping up his mess. After two seconds too long, she glanced up at him. “So, you gonna help or you just want to watch me on my knees?”

Heat flooded his face, “Oh…oh dear,” and he crashed to the floor.

“Relax, Michael, I’m just teasing. Here.”

He took the towels she offered and began dabbing beside her. An annoyed voice, leftover from his geeky high school days, echoed between his ears: _Get it together, dickhead! She’s just a normal woman, and you’re a normal man. Everything is fine. Be cool._

Their eyes met only a few times before Maya swung into the room, hauling an empty cake pan and a large platter of cookies. “There you are, D! I’m gonna say hi to my dad before taking a cab back into the city. Wanna come with?”

Mike’s heart sank a little.

“Oh, um—”

“Maya, time to go!” Jane swooped in and grabbed her daughter’s hand almost knocking the plate of cookies to the ground.

“Wait Mom, what about Dione?”

Jane eyed Mike with precision and gave a curt nod toward Dione.

“I can take her back into the city.” The volume of his voice surprised everyone, but mostly Mike himself. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean, I would be happy to give you a lift, Dione. If you’d like, that is.”

“Uh…I mean—”

“Mike, she’ll go with you. Dione, you’ll go with him. Maya, I want to get out of this shirt. I’m starting to get sticky. Let’s all go home. Come on now. Up, up, up!” Jane hustled over, lifted Dione from the ground by her elbow, and squished her in a hug. She muttered something to make Dione laugh, an effervescent twinkling sound that surged through Mike’s spine like electricity. Jane patted him on the arm and jabbed one stubby finger into his chest. “You get her home safe, okay? She’s my kin now, so no funny business in that fancy car. I don’t want to see any news stories about Dr. Mike getting pulled over.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, Mom, stop it. We’ll walk out with you.” Maya pulled her mother out the door.

The four of them marched across the asphalt lot in a kind of joyful silence, each with their own satisfied grins and rhythmic plodding. Maya waved and blew a kiss to Dione as she slid into her mother’s Ford Focus.

Michael saddled up to the passenger side of his car and held his breath while Dione scanned the vehicle with a pursed mouth. She glanced at him and smiled. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, right um…here.” He tapped the handle of the Tesla and the butterfly door floated open.

“Thank you, Michael,” she buckled her seatbelt and crossed her legs.

Mike just barely contained a groan watching her dress slide up her thigh a bit to reveal the lacy edge of her stockings. He tapped the door again, letting it close on that delectable sight and the explicit nature of his imaginings, before rounding the bumper and getting into his own seat. A heated, yet comfortable quiet fell around them, and all he could hear was the subtle hum of the engine and his own racing heart.

He was pulling onto the turnpike before he was able to utter a sentence that didn’t sound like a pickup line or just obscene panting. “So, how do you know Maya?”

Slowly, she turned her head from the passenger window and stared at him. He watched the lights of passing cars spill across her face, while she quirked up one side of those deep cherry lips. He was so distracted by her mouth he almost missed her answer. “I actually knew Lucas first. We grew up together, but we lost touch after his family moved to the States. What about you? How do you know Maya?” Her hands clasped and unclasped in her lap.

Mike picked up on her discomfort and leapt at the chance to ease her mind. “I knew Luke first, too! We were residents together. We didn’t work together much since he was on the surgical wing, but after work we’d play basketball or go get a drink.”

She made a low whistle in her throat and twisted toward him. “Whew, you two out on the town together? The ladies must have loved you. Two handsome doctors prowling the streets – tell me, Michael. How many numbers would you get on the average night?”

He was grateful for the darkness of the tunnel because it masked his blush. “I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m some flirty, douchebag playboy—"

“You were there this morning, right? That _was_ you who asked if I’d ever seen you on YouTube?”

_She isn’t gonna let this go!_ His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He’d already apologized and felt enough like an asshole, and now she thought he had a little black book and a hundred notches in his bedpost. His nerdy inner monologue was running rampant with pride at being perceived as cool, but on the surface, he was impossibly warm.

“Michael,” her hand fell lightly on his arm as she leaned toward him, “I’m just kidding. I don’t think you’re a douchebag.”

The breath he didn’t know he was holding rushed from his lungs in one giant exhale. “Oh, thank God.”

“You need to loosen up! I don’t know what they teach you in medical school, but it’s definitely not how to take a joke.”

“I can take a joke! You just make me nervous!”

“Oh, do I?” a wicked gleam caught her eye. _Oh shit,_ Mike cursed.

She rested her elbows on the center console and shifted toward him, bringing her lips mere inches from his ear. “Why do I make you nervous, Michael?”

The sound of his name on her tongue made him shiver, but he didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer because right now all the blood that _should’ve been in his brain_ was rushing south and if he didn’t give his attention to the road, he most certainly would have an erection before they’d made it into Manhattan.

Thankfully, she didn’t press the question. He could sense her gazing at him, but he homed in on driving them safely to the Park before opening his mouth again. “So, uh…Maya says we’re neighbors. Where would you like me to drop you off?”

She shrugged noncommittally. “Any place is fine, really. I can walk.”

“You can’t walk in _those_ ,” he looked pointedly at her shoes, noting the 2-inch heel and a dash of color across her toes. “Don’t your feet hurt already? You’ve been wearing them for hours.”

“Oh, please. I’m a pro. I haven’t fallen out of heels since I was a teenager, and these are my comfiest pair.” She kicked her leg up in an impossible position, and as her dress slid up, Mike had to look away. She plucked a stray hair from the velvet material before crossing her legs again.

He cleared his throat. “No way. Not happening. Besides, Jane would kill me if I didn’t make sure you made it home safely.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.” Dione directed him to a parking garage. An attendant in a reflective green jacket popped out, and Mike rolled down the window.

“You have your pass on you, sir?”

Dione stretched herself over the console and into the driver’s seat to see the glowing man. “Hey Nick, it’s just me.” Just a whiff of her perfume made Mike close his eyes. She was too close. One of her curls actually _touched his chin_ , and he was going to lose his mind if she didn’t get away.

The attendant— _Nick_ —leaned down to see his passenger a little more clearly. “Oh, hey D! I’ve never seen you in a Tesla. They finally start paying you over there?”

Mike’s hands flexed possessively against the steering wheel, but this man’s casual familiarity with the woman beside him was _not_ the reason. No way. He was agitated about _the car_. Just the car. He was third-wheeling _in his own car._

“Stop it!” Dione’s voice took on a playfully coy tone, and her giggle was assaulting. Not that musical twinkle from the clinic earlier that reminded him of champagne on New Year’s Eve. This was…forced and uncomfortable.

The man— _Nick_ —braced his forearms against Mike’s window and offered a pleasant smile. He wasn’t unattractive, necessarily. Just…gruff. Messy. A little unkempt. And much, much older than Dione.

_But maybe that’s her type?_

Mike shook his head. No, this man wasn’t Dione’s type. At least…he hoped not.

Nick chimed in again. “I’m serious! You’re over there at all hours, doing God knows what. In fact, you’re back early tonight. It’s only—11 o’clock. What’s the story, huh?”

Dione patted Mike on the arm, “Nick, this is Michael. Michael, meet Nick. Nick helped me a lot the first day I moved in here, and he’s been ragging on me ever since.” The two old friends laughed for a moment before an overzealous—and perhaps, overprotective—palm slapped Mike in the chest.

He was too busy cooling his envy to recognize he’d been asked a question. He nodded, a plastic smile on his face hoping to cover up for the fact that he had no idea what was going on. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Dione whipped her head to face him, and their noses were inches apart. “You are?”

“Cool, cool. Just give me a second,” Nick turned back into his kiosk and started typing away.

“Yes, I…am?” he swallowed nervously.

“Were you planning to ask me, or did you just assume I’d say yes?” Dione’s eyes dropped into a scowl, and Mike got the impression he’d either fucked up or fucked up.

“Wait, to be honest—”

“Here ya go. It expires in 24 hours. Be good to my girl, okay? I’ll see you later Di!” Nick gave the hood of the car two pats, and the garage barricade lifted. Dione slid back into her seat, folded her arms, and scrutinized Mike as he drove to a parking spot near the stairwell.

He turned off the car and waited silently. When he glanced up at Dione, a shudder ran through him. If looks could kill, he’d be dead, buried, and sent straight to hell. She cocked her head. Pursed her lips. Glared. “Michael Vale,” she purred quietly. Her voice was a lure, most likely to his demise.

“I don’t know what I did, but whatever it was, I’m so sorry.” He held his palms out and felt a bead of sweat collect at the nape of his skull.

“You’re staying the night.”

“I’m _what?_ ”

“That’s what you told Nick.”

“Wait, no—I didn’t even—I wasn’t—my mind was—I didn’t hear what the question was, so I just agreed. I don’t want to stay the night.”

“You don’t _want_ to?”

“No, I mean—that’s not—”

“So you _do_ want to?”

“No, what I’m trying to say is—” he stopped himself and gripped onto the steering wheel, steeling his eyes from her face. He took two deep breaths to settle himself.

“Go on, then,” she whispered, folding her arms across her chest.

He turned to her and sunk in the full depth of her eyes. “Dione, this is all a misunderstanding. I wasn’t focused on the question, so I just took a chance with my answer. I’m a gentleman, and I’m sorry I gave you the impression that I wasn’t. I would never, _ever_ invite myself into a woman’s home.”

One perfectly shaped eyebrow quirked up as heated silence engulfed them. Mike counted his heartbeats as they accelerated the longer she stared at him. Confused, he watched a slow, intimate smirk dimple her cheeks. “Well, that’s unfortunate. I was thinking you might ravage me in the stairwell.” She leaned over, pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, and sprung from the vehicle. “Thanks for the ride, Michael!”

The air was sucked out of his car as she swiped into the building and bounded up the stairs, all the while Michael’s jaw hung open in awe.


	6. Coffee & Canines

Mike stared at himself in the mirror, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair dripping water onto the bathroom counter. It was Dione’s first day, and he was trying not to freak out. The last time he’d seen her, he could hardly contain his desperation to touch her. When he found her in his office, his subconscious flicked through every dirty thing he wanted to do to her in the small space before she ever opened her mouth. And then when she said his name, insisting on using both syllables instead of shortening it, he could have melted. Oh, and her wicked teasing!

He splashed cold water on his face before studying his phone again. He had told Dione to call when she arrived, and he had told Elliott to hold off on filming his next video. The way she texted was infuriating, flipping from playful to serious to nothing. He still had time to dry and get dressed, having woken up with a raging erection between his thighs long before his alarm blared. He wanted to wait until the last possible moment before getting dressed, so he didn’t sit down and wrinkle his clothes. He cursed himself for caring so much about a near stranger’s perception of him, when he had millions of people watching his videos twice a week. He was a damn doctor! And a social media influencer! He couldn’t stand having this childish crush on a woman who hadn’t even expressed interest in anything about him, other than his dogs.

_Ping!_ Michael scanned his phone screen to see the newest notification, and his heart raced when he saw Dione’s name and face. He opened the message with trembling fingers: _Hey, sorry to text you so early! I’m just finishing up my run, and I thought I’d see if now was too early to stop by since I’m already out and about?_

He almost lost his footing as he thought about her coming to his apartment after a run. The thought of their first encounter in the park and the fantasies that filled his head. He typed a quick response, unsure of what he was saying until after it was sent: _Not too early at all. I’ve been up for hours. Come on by, and I’ll make you breakfast._

His heart pounded, waiting for her response.

_Ping!_

_You don’t have to do that, but I would love a cup of coffee, if you can spare it?_

Mike smiled. _I’m already making food, so if you change your mind, you’re welcome to have a meal. I’ll have a fresh pot brewed and a cup set aside. See you soon :)_

He searched the screen for those three cursed dots to indicate she was typing a response, but after waiting several minutes, he realized he was wasting time. He rushed through his apartment to the kitchen, setting a pot of water to boil and putting a few slices of whole wheat bread in the toaster. He fingered over the avocados in his fruit basket and nodded, satisfied with the fleshy squish. He turned on his auto-pot coffeemaker, grabbed a few eggs from his impressively stocked refrigerator, plopped them in the pot, set a timer for six minutes, and raced back to his room.

Bertie and Bear, who up to this point had been happily snoozing on their respective dog beds, took sudden interest in their owner’s frantic movements. Bertie took off first, leading Bear into Mike’s room as he pulled on a pair of relaxed fit jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt. He fixed his damp hair into a coif that hopefully didn’t look like he tried too hard. He brushed his teeth—again—put on deodorant and socks and shuffled to the kitchen, stopping to greet his pets. “Come on, handsome boys! I’ve got a surprise for you today. Now, I need you to be on your best behavior. No slobbering, drooling, barking, growling, and no jumping.” A loud trill took his attention from his furry friends, much to Bear’s displeasure. His stomach leapt into his throat when he answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Can you buzz me in?”

“Absolutely, just one second—8th floor, 8022.”

“Thank you.”

God, she sounded angelic, he thought as he entered the code to unlock the inner doorways. As he waited for her to knock, he buttered the toast, de-shelled the soft-boiled eggs, and mashed up an avocado. He plated the meal, poured coffee into two mugs, and waited. He thought back to the last time he’d had a woman in his apartment and couldn’t remember feeling nearly this nervous. Granted, the last time was his one and only attempt at a one-night stand and the woman had said she was a fan, but when the moment came to…perform, he just couldn’t do it. He blamed it on the liquor they’d consumed, and she was kind enough to believe him. He said he’d call her, but he never did, and she never reached out. She still followed him on Instagram, though.

He started to pace, anxiously twisting his hands trying to formulate the smartest thing he could say once she was in his apartment. He hated that her presence turned him into a schoolboy, and he doubly hated how far she was from his usual type. Throughout his courting years, he’d only ever dated athletic, slim, white women with straight hair and thin lips. The more he thought about it now, the more he wondered what on earth he saw in those women. They were pretty, sure, in a conventional or popularly understood way. He felt confident with them, masculine and smart. He mentally rolled through his little black book and found that yes, indeed, many of these women could be related to one another—or worse—to him.

Before he could shudder at the thought, a soft triplet of taps brought his eyes to his front door. He staggered between a jog and a forced leisurely stroll as he moved to swing the door open. Upon seeing her again, his heart stuttered in his chest. She wore black yoga pants that squeezed her curves and a bright yellow jacket over a muted purple racerback tank top. She was sweaty, and her curly hair stuck out around her face, a few loose strands escaping from her topknot. Her face was clear of makeup, and Mike swore he’d never seen someone so radiant.

She beamed up at him, her smile bright as ever. “Hello, Michael.”

“Dione, hey—come on in.” He ushered her inside and before she’d made it past the door, he heard paws scratching the hardwood floors as two fur beasts ran to see who entered their home. “Boys, hey—” he warned as the two pets got closer. Bear hopped on his front paws, anxious to smother the intruder with kisses. Bertie growled passively and brought his nose directly to the space between Dione’s thighs. Mike felt his face go red as he lunged for the husky, but he stopped upon seeing Dione crouch to be eye-level with his pup.

“Hey, now, Bertie—you gotta buy me dinner first,” she laughed and scratched him behind his ears. The dog responded by leaning his head flat against her palm and letting his tongue flop out of his muzzle. His tail wagged viciously, sending tufts of black and white fur around the room. Bear took advantage of Dione’s shortened height, coming up beside her and licking her cheek. A string of drool connected the two of them briefly. Dione only giggled and offered warm affections to the dogs, treating them each to a series of joy-inducing pets.

Mike couldn’t stop his jaw from falling when she stood up and made a gesture with her fist. Instantly the two dogs perched back on their haunches and waited further instructions. She grinned, offered them each a deserved “good boy”, and turned to face him. Her smile fell, “Oh, sorry—was I not supposed—?”

“How did you do that?” Mike uttered breathlessly. Never had he seen his dogs take to someone so immediately and so obediently. Shit, he sometimes struggled to get them to listen when he gave directions.

She winked at him and the action put a fire in his belly. “I can’t give away all my secrets. Now, where’s that coffee?”

They spent the next few hours going over logistics and care instructions. Mike detailed all of Bertie’s medical needs, what Bear liked to eat off the sidewalk on their morning treks. Mike demonstrated the training skills he was working on with the dogs, and Dione picked up on them rather quickly. He was thrilled when his dogs eagerly followed her lead. They chatted over breakfast and coffee, stopping to giggle and joke with one another. After a quiet moment where they were nothing but heated stares over mug rims, he cleared his throat. “Dione, can I ask you something?”

“Of course. What’s up?” she put her mug down and leaned forward slightly, bracing her elbow on the bar top.

“This might sound kind of strange, considering you’re in my home and you’ve agreed to care for my dogs, but what do you do for a living?”

She laughed quietly, “Yeah, we kind of skipped that part of the interview process, didn’t we?”

“I guess we did. I just took Maya and Lucas at their word when I called them about you. They assured me you weren’t a murderer, and that you did, in fact, take very good care of their own dogs.”

“Ah, so you went straight into references? I hope they didn’t tell you anything embarrassing about me.”

“Nope, we only spoke about your canine capabilities, which means that I know almost nothing about you.”

“You’re quite trusting to believe them so quickly,” Dione smirked and took another slow sip of her coffee. Her gaze was mischievous.

“After what I’ve seen you do with these two rowdy boys this morning, I think your skills were quite under-reported. You truly are a dog whisperer.” He met her stare and felt heat rise to his cheeks. He cursed his pale skin and coughed to cover his embarrassment. “So, the question?”

She nodded. “I’m a teaching assistant in the film department at NYU.”

“Teaching assistant? That means you’re working while getting your degree, right?”

“I just started my masters’ program back in January.”

“And where were you before then?” Mike tapped his fingers on the side of his mug.

“A whole bunch of places…Prague, LA, Hong Kong, Mumbai, Sydney, the Caribbean. I’ve kind of been globetrotting for a bit, scoping out the international cinema scene.”

Mike’s brows shot up as she listed off her passport stamps. “Holy shit. Who were you traveling with?”

“Just me, myself, and I. There were a few times where I’d meet folks who were traveling the same way and we’d spend a few days, but then it was on to the next stop. I once met a couple backpacking through Europe on their honeymoon, and they asked if I would photograph their trip from Prague to Paris, so I locked up my apartment, grabbed a camera and a few lenses, and followed them across a few borders.”

“Oh, my God. Possibly inappropriate question, but how old are you?”

She quirked her lip at him. “I’m almost 26.”

“I’m an absolute embarrassment,” he slumped back into his barstool.

“What are you talking about?”

“The most traveling I’ve done outside of the country is to Canada and Mexico, and I’ve got four years on you.”

“It’s not a competition, Michael,” she glanced down at her coffee as her face contorted into something of sadness. His first instinct was to brush his hand over hers and ask her what was wrong, but he resisted. Instead, he rose and watched as her eyes followed.

He clapped his hands, “Well, what do you say we take these two over to the dog park?”

Dione smiled, but shook her head. “I should probably get home and clean myself up. I’m sorry you had to deal with me and my post-run appearance.”

“Believe me, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he offered a wink, trying to come off as confident instead of deeply disappointed about her departure. A thought came to mind: “Hey, what if I walked you home? You live nearby, right?”

“No, no—I’m sure you’re busy. You don’t have to do that.” She began to wash her dishes at the kitchen sink. Mike came up behind her, and he could’ve sworn he saw a shiver roll through her spine. He took the plate and mug from her hands and slipped them into the dishwasher.

“I’m not busy at all. In fact, you are the only thing on my to-do list today.”

She spun around with a smirk, “I’m on your to-do list?”

Mike slapped his palm to his forehead. “You know what I mean!”

“Do I?” she stepped forward and dropped her eyes down the length of his body. His palms started to sweat. He coughed, and when she brought her eyes back to his face, he could’ve ravaged her there on the kitchen floor. Her eyes were smoky and seductive, and she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

He took a much-needed step back and watched a devilish grin appear on her cheeks. “I mean that I have nothing else scheduled, so if you’re interested, Bertie, Bear, and I can walk you back to your apartment.”

“It might be nice to take a test run with them, see how they respond to me.”

“Is that a yes?” Mike asked and felt his heart flutter when she nodded.


	7. Let's Be Friends

“That’ll be it for tonight, folks. Thank you all for coming!” Dione swung off the pole, clacking her giant heels across the marley and squatting beside the stereo. She turned on a sultry, bass-heavy electronic song while the eight other bodies around her began to pack their own bags. Dione sat on the floor, stretching her sore muscles, as her dance pupils stopped to chat with her on their way out. She smiled as they left, and once the last person was out the door, she kicked off her killer heels and flopped onto her back. It was starting to actually feel like fall, and the early sunsets were definitely affecting her energy levels. Dione knew all about her own mental health concerns, but it still surprised her every year when her “winter blues” kicked in and left her feeling drained and exhausted and bored. Despite being busier than she had been the last four months, she still felt unmotivated and groggy. Sleeping was all she wanted to do but also the only thing she couldn’t seem to get enough of. She might’ve gotten ten hours over the course of the week. Her appetite was either nonexistent or ravenous. She could go days without eating or eat an entire box of cereal in thirty minutes, and there was no in between.

“Hey, Di, how’d it go?” Maya slipped silently into the room and sat beside Dione’s prostrate body.

“Class was good, I think. I don’t know, I’m still getting the hang of the teaching thing.”

Maya laughed and took her friend’s feet into her lap. Maya delicately massaged Dione’s ankles. “Di, you’ve been teaching for over a month, and your classes are selling out! Have you even checked our Google reviews? Everyone’s raving about you!”

“Yeah, yeah—I just…. It feels so weird to have everyone staring at me while I’m hanging upside down with my shorts riding up so God and everyone can see my huha. It’s just weird. I’m glad people are enjoying it, though.”

“I’m glad you finally accepted my offer. I was starting to feel like I was grossly exploiting you. You were hanging with Frank and Lulu almost three days a week but spending maybe an hour in the studio. But now you’re a certified pole professional, who is bringing in new students every week and still getting to hang out with some super adorable dogs. And all of it is paid! Wait, Mike is paying you, right?”

At the mention of his name, Dione’s heart stuttered. It had been over six weeks since she started sitting and watching Michael’s dogs, and she loved Bertie and Bear almost as much as she loved seeing Michael nearly every morning. He just walked around looking like sex on legs, and it drove Dione insane. She toyed with him, sending him prolonged stares and winks, occupying his personal bubble when she didn’t necessarily need to, making suggestive comments with absolute sincerity. Dione would have been fine being paid in his affections, but she took him as the commitment type, and Dione couldn’t risk getting involved with someone who was ready and willing to settle down at a moment’s notice.

Dione grinned and sat up, pulling her feet under her and extending her arms to be massaged next. Maya took them without a word, kneading the muscles in Dione’s biceps. “Yes, Michael is paying me.”

“With money, right? Or did the two of you come up with some kind of exchange program like you did with me? Oh, my God, is he offering you medical care in lieu of money?”

“What? No! No, Maya, you know I don’t see doctors. Michael is paying me in real, American currency to watch his two dogs.”

“Good, good. How is that going, anyway?” Maya switched arms, and Dione flinched at a particularly bruised spot. A long, drawn out vibration rattled the floor beneath them. Dione dug underneath her bag to retrieve her cellphone. She held it up for Maya’s inspection. “Ah,” she muttered, “Speak of the devil. It’s kind of late for him to call you, right?”

Dione shrugged, “Not necessarily. Sometimes he calls if his hospital shift is running long, and he wants to make sure the dogs are fed. I didn’t think he was on shift today, so I’m a bit confused. I’ll meet you outside? I’ll lock up the studio.” Truth was, every time Michael called her after 9pm she prayed that he was calling to fuck her senseless on his kitchen counter, but to date, he had remained professional and kind and completely oblivious to her advances. After all, it was merely a game for her—see how long he could go being teased before he made a comment. She knew it was risky, but that made his torment all the more fun.

“Sounds good,” Maya touched the tender spot once more before she rose to her feet and left the room.

Dione put her phone to her ear. “Hello, Michael,” she drawled his name out in her most seductive tone and was pleased when she was met with a sudden inhale on the other line.

“Dione, hey—sorry to call you so late. Are you um…are you busy right now?” she could hear the nerves rack his voice, and it sent an indelicate shiver through her spine.

“I just finished class. Is everything okay? Are the dogs okay?”

“Yeah, totally. I’m fine. The dogs are good. I have a favor to ask you. Could you come over? It would be easier to explain in person.”

Her heart almost exploded in her chest, and she felt her thighs twitch excitedly. “Is it okay if I’m sweaty?” her voice was breathy.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah, yeah—don’t worry about that. It’s a film question. I promise I’ll pay you for your time.”

“How about paying me in dessert?”

He laughed on the other end, “I can absolutely provide you dessert. I’m just back in my bedroom, the boys should be in their beds. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Having dessert in your bedroom sounds like just the evening I wanted.” She waited to hear him slap a palm to his face before she hung up with a giggle. She packed her bag, looped her heels around the shoulder strap, and locked up. She explained what was happening to Maya, who gave her a dubious grin and kissed her cheek goodbye.

Dione trekked up the street and across the park to Michael’s building. She let herself in using the fob and key he made for her when she first started. Bear and Bertie perked up at hearing the door open, wagged their tails when they saw it was Dione, but stayed happily in their beds and watched her turn down the hallway. She heard muttering and cursing as she approached the one door with a light on. She knocked lightly.

“Come in,” he called. As Dione stepped over the threshold, she was nearly blinded by the LEDs that perched atop an extended tripod. A ring light illuminated the space, and Dione noticed Michael hunched over on the ground above a camera, shotgun mic, and his computer. He was wearing his scrubs, and the way his arms flexed against his shirt sleeves did something deliciously naughty to Dione’s insides. She leaned against the door frame and took in his figure. His back was taut and strong, the ridges of his muscles casting shadows across his spine. Her gaze lingered, even when he turned around and spotted her. “Hey, you,” his face lit up in a lopsided grin.

He waved her deeper into his room, and she took a good look around. Everything was orderly and clean and tight. She cast her eyes to his enormous monochromatic king-sized bed, covered in a black-and-white color block comforter, a simple gray, whipstitch quilt, and about a half dozen plush, silk pillows. It looked like methodical luxury. He caught her eyeing his bed and cleared his throat. “You can sit, if you’d like. I’ll take your bag,” he rose to retrieve her tote from her shoulder and hesitated when he saw the seven-inch platform pumps attached to the strap. “Um…those are….”

“Intense?” Dione offered with a quirked brow.

Mike nodded, “I was going to say dangerous. Whose are these?”

“They’re mine.”

“But they look like….” he trailed off and when Dione didn’t offer to finish his sentence, his eyes went wide. “Oh, do you um…dance…part time?”

She laughed, a twinkly sound in her throat, and she stepped closer to him. His hand tightened around the tote strap, and he slipped it down her arm. The blush on his cheeks was hard to hide, and Dione loved that she made him flustered. “I love dancing,” she said quietly, “but if you’re asking if I strip, the answer is no. At least, not in a club and not for tips.” She winked at him and watched his throat tense when he swallowed. “Relax, Michael. I teach pole classes a few times a week. It’s good exercise.”

He breathed a deep sigh of relief, “Oh, so that’s what you meant by class and being sweaty. I was confused what film class would be happening so late and require so much physical exertion.”

She took another step closer, now only an inch from touching. She looked up to him slowly, “You could always swing by class if you wanted to see those shoes in action. I could even,” she dropped her eyes down the length of his body before returning to his stare with a smirk, “give you a private lesson.”

His pupils dilated, and he licked his lips. He looked ready to either devour her or yell at her, and the indecision left her smiling. He coughed once, lifted his brow, and smirked. “Maybe I will.”

_Oh, so he can play, too?_ Dione thought as he brushed past her and dropped her bag against the nightstand at the head of his bed. He smelled like sin, teak wood and cardamom. Dione caught herself salivating at the thought of what he must taste like. Mike knelt on the ground and gestured for her to sit in front of him on the mattress. “So,” she expelled a low breath, sinking into the cushiony base. “What can I do for you?”

He flicked his eyes to her and offered a subtle wink. “That list is long, but tonight—” he held up the camera and short microphone before her, “—I think I broke the mirror inside the camera when I was putting on a new lens, and I got this new microphone but I’m not sure how to connect it the right way. Can you help?”

Dione switched into technical mode and took the equipment from his hands. She started pushing buttons and fiddling with the lens. A few minutes of quiet, tinkering silence passed before she looked up with a grin. “No broken mirror, but the lens you have is a Nikon, and your camera is a Canon, so you need to put on an adjuster before the lens can be attached and used properly. Your shotgun mic is actually missing the right cable to connect it to the body, but I’m sure that’s somewhere in the case or tangled in other equipment. Where is your camera case?” Dione unfolded her legs and stood up from the bed, leaving Mike’s nose only inches from her belly button, but she was too distracted to notice the suggestive position until she heard a sharp inhale. She looked down at the smirk on his face and willed herself to hold still. Their eyes locked on one another, and she said again, “Your camera case?”

He rose to his feet, “This is all the stuff that I have. Just those lights, the chargers, the original lens, and these two things.”

“So…when you film your videos, this is all that you use?” she moved toward the little pocket of stuff that had collected on the ground. It was bare, for sure, but nothing that couldn’t be finagled. She toggled the LEDs and brought them down to a more reasonable brightness. She picked up some odds and ends and examined the tripod.

Mike followed her with his eyes, tracking her body as it shifted under her clothes. “Not exactly. I have worked with this kid named Elliott for the last few months. He does freelance video work around the city, and he’s shot and edited almost all of my content.”

“Where is he then? He couldn’t come over to help you?” she asked over her shoulder.

“He had to go see his family in Colorado for a bit. His grandmother’s really sick, and he’s trying to support his mom. But because it was so sudden, we didn’t have time to film anything else to fill in for the time that he’s gone, so now I’m trying to figure out how to pull a video together, edit it, and upload it before the end of the week.” Mike shrugged. 

Dione nodded and squatted above the equipment. She started weaving her way through his stuff, setting up the equipment with purpose and adjusting the camera settings. Her eyes finally met his. “Sit down for me?”

He cocked his head but sat down in front of the camera. Dione pressed more buttons, fixed the lights again, raised the tripod. He quirked a brow, “What are you doing?”

“I’m helping you. I’ll be your Elliott for the week,” she grinned like it was obvious.

Mike stood up quickly and walked to her, “No, no—I can do this. I’ll figure it out. There’s all kinds of tutorials online, and I can read—”

“Let me help you. This is literally my job. I do camera work for a living.”

“Come on, Di—you’re busy enough as it is, right? You’re at NYU, teaching pole classes, and you’re already here almost every morning to take care of—”

“Are you saying you don’t enjoy my company?” she was teasing, but her voice held a drop of apprehension.

“You know what I mean. I can’t, in good faith, allow you to help me with something that’s not in your original job description, when you’re already doing so much.” It was his turn to encroach upon her personal space. He pulled her hand from the camera, “I do enjoy your company, and I think my dogs love you more than they love me.”

His hand was warm and soft and clammy and comforting. She let their hands hang together for a moment before she spoke again, “What if you didn’t consider it a job? What if it was me doing a favor for a friend?”

“We’re friends?” his voice took on a higher octave.

“As of right now, we are officially friends, and my helping you with your video is out of friendship. When it comes to Bertie and Bear, I work for you, but for all other matters, we’re friends. How does that sound?”

“I don’t know. I still feel like I should pay you in some way…” he trailed off and ran his hands through his hair.

“You can make me dinner.” She shrugged coolly and tried to act like his physical absence wasn’t soul shattering.

“I make you dinner, and you help me with my videos. Is that all there is to it?”

“Don’t forget dessert.”

He flashed a crooked smile, “I could never forget dessert. But are you sure? I don’t want to take up your time or—”

“Michael,” she stated firmly and squared her shoulders. “This is what friends do for each other. Favors in exchange for food. That’s how this works.”

“But still, I feel like—”

“We don’t have to be friends.” Again, she was confident in her delivery and believed her words wholly, but it still made her stomach drop at the thought he would rather pay her as a business associate than feed her as a friend.

“Wait, what? No! No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think—Jesus, I just can’t seem to say the right things whenever you’re around,” he mumbled. “What I meant was that I feel like I should be a better friend to you. What you’re doing for me is huge, and dinner doesn’t feel like it expresses my gratitude to the appropriate depth.”

“Fine, then we’ll think of something later to supplement dinner.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Friends?” Michael extended his hand toward her, his eyebrows raised in apology.

Dione pretended to consider his offer before slipping her palm against his. “Friends.”


	8. Just a Nibble

Tired. All he felt was tired. Mike stayed up the night before working with Dione on his latest video, and it was so electrifying to sit beside her as her fingers expertly maneuvered the gear, he couldn’t calm down enough to fall asleep until long after 1am. And that was following a full day of seeing patients. He always tried to keep his work separate from his home life, but it was incredibly hard when part of his home life involved bringing up work-related subjects in his videos.

He figured that Dione could sense his stress last night while they were working, and eventually she kneeled behind him on his bed and started to massage his scalp. Mike was taken aback for a moment before he melted into her touch. It felt heavenly to be touched by her in such a delicate and incredibly intimate way. Had he been more alert, he probably would’ve been seduced by her gently pulling his hair, but because he was so far gone into his exhaustion, all he could manage were quiet sighs of appreciation. They were silent for several minutes, just breathing together. At one point, she trailed her fingers down the back of his neck, using her nails to lightly encourage blood to the surface. She leaned forward, and Michael swore he felt her breasts graze his back. He stiffened at her sudden closeness as she brought her mouth to his ear.

“How are you feeling now?” she whispered, and her breath on his skin made his head cloudy. All he could do was nod, letting his eyes flutter shut. He felt a twinge between his thighs and tried valiantly to repress his sexual urges and keep his inevitable erection at bay. Her hand wrapped delicately around his throat and tapped over his carotid artery, no doubt feeling his heightened heart rate, but she didn’t say anything. She caressed the side of his face and stood up. Once her skin left his, he felt cold. He craved her fingers on him. “You should get some rest. We can talk more about this in the morning, and we’ll go from there, okay?” She padded barefoot through his bedroom, finding her bag and tennis shoes.

He looked up at her and mustered the only thing he could think to say: “I’m sorry.”

She wiped a gentle finger down the length of his jaw before shaking her head. “Just go to sleep. There’s nothing to apologize for.” And then she was gone.

Mike tossed and turned through his few hours of sleep, anxiety and arousal shaking him from his rest multiple times. He tried to piece together how this was all going to work. With over two hours of content, slimming the video down to eight minutes was going to be a major challenge, and he couldn’t imagine how Dione was going to pull it off in less than a week. He attempted the math in his dreary, post-alarm state, trying to calculate when she slept between shooting, editing, delivering, and working her other three jobs, all within a few days’ time.

Mike’s heart bubbled in his throat while he waited for her to show up this morning. He was tired, yes, but he couldn’t stop the rampant excitement that gripped him every time she came over. He sipped his coffee leisurely, hoping to prolong the effects, when there were three quiet knocks on his front door. He called out from his perch in the kitchen, “It’s open, D.”

She pushed the door open, and just like that, the caffeine kicked in. Of course, she looks good on only a few hours of sleep, Mike thought as he watched her greet his dogs. She carried a small case with her, about the size of his hand, and approached him with intention. He could feel his heart rate accelerate with every step she took, and he swallowed harshly when she stood in front of him. Without a word, she took his coffee mug from his hands and tipped it to her mouth. One big gulp, she closed her eyes, swallowed, and peeked up at him through long lashes. A small grin on her face, she mumbled, “I needed that.”

Mike couldn’t help the smirk he adopted. “What’s mine is yours.”

“Careful with that, Michael. I might start to believe you.”

“Did you bring me a gift?” he gestured to the case.

She took a seat at the bar, “What? My existence isn’t enough of a present?”

“Very funny. Seriously, what’s in the case?” he grabbed a mug and poured Dione her own cup of coffee.

“Well, I spent about two hours last night watching some of your videos from the last 4 or 5 months, just so I could be consistent with Elliott’s editing, and I was able to get a rough cut completed before my alarm went off this morning. I wanted to get your feedback before you left for work, so I could pull together another cut by tonight.”

Michael’s eyes almost popped from his head. “I’m sorry, what? You stayed up all night working on this video?” he approached her cautiously, leaning against the bar beside her. She spun in her chair to face him. With her seat on the slightly elevated bar stool, she almost met his eye level, but fell short by a couple inches.

She nodded, “Yeah, of course! I didn’t want you to be stressed about your upload schedule. But I definitely need your—”

“You’re unbelievable. I don’t know whether I should kiss you or scold you,” he blurted quickly, and his cheeks started to warm.

Her eyes traveled over his body while she hummed lowly and leaned forward. “Mmm, why not both at the same time?” her fingers danced dangerously close to his hand, and before he could get lost in the way she was gazing at him, he took a step back from her. Her lips turned up in a smirk before she pouted, “You’re no fun.”

“Seriously, Dione, have you slept since I saw you last night?”

“I’m fine, Michael,” she dropped her hands to her lap.

“That wasn’t the question I asked.” He sat quietly and waited for her answer. They stared at each other, and if Mike had learned anything about Dione in his few months of knowing her, he knew her resolve was far firmer than his, and her competitive streak was nothing to joke about. He sighed and settled himself into the barstool behind her. Gripping onto the back of her chair, he spun her around to face him. He leaned forward, truly taking in her eyes. He was surprised to see little fiery orange specks glinting in her otherwise hazel irises. He trapped her with his stare, and he struggled to hold an air of authority as he said, “Dione, did you sleep last night?”

“Yes,” she said smoothly.

“Are you lying to me?”

“Yes,” she echoed.

Mike closed his eyes for just a moment. He reached out, took Dione’s hands in his, and stared at her again. He could see her breathing shift slightly, and he pushed back his desire to hear her panting. He continued softly, “If we are going to be friends, I need you to know something about me. I cannot stand dishonesty.” He looked at her pleadingly, knowing this simple statement had the possibility of breaking the very fresh relationship they had established last night.

She nodded and met his stare, “I can accept those terms, and I can tell you that, other than just now, I have not lied to you. But I need you to know something about me if we are going to be friends. I don’t sleep.” There was only sincerity in her voice, and that honesty broke his heart.

“What do you mean by that?”

She just shrugged and dropped her eyes to their interlaced fingers.

“Okay, how many hours of sleep do you get per night? On average?” Mike could feel himself slipping into his Doctor Voice and resisted the urge to grab a pen and piece of paper to jot down her symptoms and presentation.

Dione must have sensed his demeanor shift and slipped her hands from his grasp. “Michael, we’re not doing this. I’m not your patient, and I’m not seeing you for an assessment of my insomnia. I am here to walk your dogs and, if you’d let me, show you this rough cut.” Her voice broke for just a second at the thought that her work was going unappreciated, and Mike picked up on the subtlety.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he coaxed her hands back into his, feeling a balloon inflate in his stomach. Never had he apologized to someone more frequently than he had to Dione. He hated that he couldn’t get it right, but he loved that she never expected him to. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles, ducking his head to catch her eyes again. “You aren’t my patient, and this isn’t an appointment. We are friends. Let me grab my computer and you can show me your cut, okay?” he walked away before she could answer. He snagged his MacBook from his bedside table and booted it up as he walked back to the kitchen.

Dione sipped her coffee and barely raised her eyes as he returned to his seat beside her. He slid the computer in front of her and scooted his barstool closer, wrapping an arm around the back of her chair. Again, like the first time she was in his apartment, he saw a shiver run through her as he saddled up beside her. He hadn’t realized how close he was to her until he took a breath through his nose. She smelled like the ocean, like coconut and sand with a hint of salt. He brought his face closer to her neck and inhaled deeply. “You smell incredible,” he whispered. He felt the color drain from his face as he realized that he _definitely_ said that out loud, and he knew there was no slick way to act like _he hadn’t just sniffed her._

Dione laughed lightly, but not her usual twinkle. This was airy and delirious, and Mike noticed the goosebumps that laced her skin. An image of him traipsing his tongue over the dip where her neck met her shoulder flashed through his mind, and the thought sent a rush of blood to his groin. He exhaled slowly through his mouth and watched her shiver. _Is this what turns you on?_ he thought. She turned her head to him slightly, “What’s your password?”

He relished in her subtle trembling and longed to see it happen again. Without thinking, he drew his face closer to her neck and let his breath fall from his mouth as he spoke. “It’s DogDaddy11 with an asterisk at the end.” He didn’t even care that his password was stupid. He couldn’t have been less concerned with having given his password to someone else. All he focused on was the way Dione’s body was shaking slightly and her breathing had increased. He imagined how she would react to him, if he were to just nip the skin beneath her ear.

She began to type, and Mike heard the smile in her voice when she mumbled, “Do you like being called Daddy?”

_Fuck!_ The way she let the word slide over her lips made him want to do indecent things with her. With all the blood pulsing between his thighs, he didn’t have the proper brain functioning to realize that he had started to lean forward, and before he could stop himself, he had his lips pressed against her throat. For a moment, everything was still. He felt her pulse skyrocket against his mouth, and in a flash, he worried that he’d misread all of their banter and that she was seconds away from running out his door and he’d be left with an erection and no dog sitter.

But then she sighed and raised her hand to lace through his hair. It was all the encouragement he needed. He kissed under her jaw, grazing his teeth over her skin and eliciting a sharp inhale from Dione’s mouth. Mike traced his tongue around the shell of her ear and blew lightly against the wet trail. She fisted her hand against his scalp, and the quick tug was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. He risked a glance at her face and noticed her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. He wanted nothing more than to take that lip into his own mouth, but just as he was about to swing her chair around to face him, a blaring jingle ripped him from his trance. His eyes shot open as he recognized that discordant music as his mother’s ringtone. Dione’s fingers slipped from his hair slowly and found their way back to the laptop, back to the business at hand…as if nothing happened.

He let loose an exasperated groan as he leaned back from her. He answered sullenly, “Hi, Mom.” As Dione fiddled with the computer, Mike noticed a blush redden her cheeks and a smirk light her face. _Cock-blocked by my own mother_ , he rolled his eyes. Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, he heard his mother take a slow, shaky breath. “Mom, what’s wrong?”


	9. It's All About Reciprocity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again!
> 
> this chapter is more explicit in nature, so if you've made it this far, i'm so thankful for you! 8 chapters, i'm realizing, is a long f*cking time to wait for some action. i'll do better on my next go around :)
> 
> have fun!  
> let me know what you think <3
> 
> xoxo forbiddenpisces

Dione danced, twirled, and sashayed her way around Michael’s kitchen, her headphones covering her ears and a long t-shirt covering her naked body. She set out the dogs’ food and water for breakfast and went searching for the peanut butter for Bertie’s morning pills. It had been ten days since she’d last seen Michael, but the memory of his breath on her neck shook her from her sleep several times, often leaving her with wet panties and a soaring heart rate. She wondered what would have happened that morning had he not received the phone call from his mother, and her imagination frequently got the better of her. She had been staying in one of Michael’s spare rooms while he was back home, taking care of his parents after his dad’s emergency surgery. From what Dione could tell, Papa Vale fell off a ladder while trying to clean the gutters and broke his collarbone and his arm.

As soon as he hung up with his mom, Mike fled to his bedroom to start packing. Dione had followed him tentatively, twisting her hands. When he glanced up at her, his eyes were wild, but not with the lust she’d seen only minutes before. Now he was panicked. In a calm, even tone, Dione said, “I will stay and take care of the dogs. I will text you about the video.” The relief that flooded his face as soon as she assured him that his home and side hustle were taken care of—it was enough to push Dione’s heart to stutter.

He gave her a sad smile, “Make yourself at home. There should be groceries in the pantry and fresh linens in the spare room. I’ll call you when I know what’s happening.” And that was that. He left without saying anything else, only stopping on his way out to brush an escaped curl behind her ear.

But that was over a week ago. Dione was still unclear when he would return, and certainly didn’t want to take his attention away from his family in their time of need, so she did her best to make the dogs feel comfortable. She finished making all of his suggested edits and uploaded the video to his channel on schedule. She hadn’t read through the comments yet, but she thought she did exactly as Elliott would have.

But beyond the video and his dogs, Dione also needed to figure out what happened between them. She figured they would just sweep it under the rug and chalk it up to curiosity, and she was perfectly content with going back to business as usual. After all, it was just a little kiss on the neck—nothing serious. Hell, even if it were a much-desired romp in the sheets, Dione believed firmly that she could slip back into their normal routine without pause, but she doubted Michael believed in such things as casual sex. The Nike that sat on her shoulder cheered, though, in determining that it was Michael who had crumbled first under the sexual tension.

Over the course of that week and a half, she, Bertie, and Bear had developed a routine that involved walking, eating, sleeping, and playing. She was thankful to the film department for letting her work offsite occasionally, and she filled her afternoons at Mike’s apartment with editing his videos, scrubbing film for her students, and entertaining Bear’s endless need for company and closeness. She was grateful for the weekend now because it meant all of their normal activities could be taken on leisurely and without hustle.

Dione hadn’t realized how much it took to be the sole parent of two high-energy dogs, and it was not uncommon for her to find herself weary after a long day of working and playing. Though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, she’d slept better in Michael’s spare room than she’d slept in the last five years. She was surprised to find herself longing for the appropriate hours when she could go back to the apartment, snuggle and walk the dogs, and then curl into a ball on the glorious queen-sized bed. She was unexpectedly comfortable in Michael’s home, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t sorely missing her fake plants, mismatched furniture, and single bedroom. While Michael’s apartment was comfortable and clean, it wasn’t nearly as cozy nor colorful as her own home.

Just as she was twisting off the lid to the Jif, she saw motion in her peripherals. Figuring it was Bertie searching for Mike as he’d done every morning, she stepped around the corner into the hallway and ran smack into something firm and solid. Something hard stabbed her in the stomach, and she stifled the urge to scream as soon as she smelled a hint of teak wood. She glanced up to see a sleepy, shirtless Michael. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” her face started to flush, and she lifted her hands to remove her headphones.

He smirked lazily, “Me? I live here.”

“I didn’t know you were home!” she took a quick assessment as their eyes met. His pupils were dilated, lips parted slightly. His neck and cheeks were tinged pink, and that hard thing that was jabbed into her midsection? Her gaze flicked south and took notice of his tented flannel pajama bottoms. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. Michael’s hands were wrapped firmly around her shoulders to keep her steady, and she was sure he could feel her body vibrating with nervous tension. The angel on her shoulder told her to take a step back, but the devil between her thighs yearned to be closer. She couldn’t stop the blood that rushed her face as she realized that Michael probably had no idea that his erection was jutting into her stomach, not that she minded at all. She swallowed hard and met his stare again, “What time did you get back?”

He yawned and lifted his arms into a stretch that broke all of Dione’s concentration. His chest and shoulders contracted in a way that could only be described as godly. And his morning voice was sinful, deep and rocky like a glass of scotch. Dione closed her eyes for just a moment and tried to remember the last time she’d slept with someone. _That English TA in June? It was less than 5 minutes, I hardly think that counts. I wonder how long Michael would…._ She opened her eyes in time to see that he’d noticed her brief pause.

He gave her a tired smile, “I walked in around 4 this morning. I popped my head in to say hi, but you were out like a light. I figured I’d let you sleep.”

“You should’ve woken me up! Told me to get out so you could have your apartment back.” she tried to take a step back to give him—and herself—space, but he took a step forward, sliding his hands gently down her arms. Her head felt muddled and excited. She had the sudden desperate need to take his hardened length in her palm or in her mouth, and her desires dampened her thighs. It was entirely too warm, and her breathing was far too shallow. She choked back the agitated sigh that wanted to escape her mouth.

Michael straightened his spine before mumbling quietly, “Now, why would I do that? If I recall, you told me that you don’t sleep. How could I, as your _friend_ , wake you up when sleeping is so uncommon for you?”

She thanked her lineage for her color because she was sure her face would’ve looked tomato red without her melanin to combat it. She had slept naked last night, and the thought flashed across her mind: what did he see when he popped his head in, besides her sleeping frame? She shook her head and attempted another step back, but instead pressed herself flat against the wall. Michael followed her, pushing himself inside her personal bubble. She could have sworn she heard him hiss as the head of his penis slid over her stomach.

Her voice trembled with sex-crazed anxiety, “Oh, well—I’ll get out of your space.” Dione tried to slide past him, but Michael grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He must have overestimated her resistance because she fell into his chest again. She didn’t struggle out of his grasp, nor did he remove himself from their embrace. She stayed put and wondered if he would be the first to notice their suggestive positioning. Her mouth parted slightly as she felt his member throb against her t-shirt. _Dear God, this is too much._

“Don’t leave,” he whispered. She met his eyes, hooded and lustful and desperate. His gaze flickered to her mouth, and she slid her tongue over her lips. Michael inhaled sharply. “Please,” he breathed out. Dione wasn’t entirely sure what he was really pleading her for, but with how her body was responding, she was sure it wasn’t platonic.

What she wanted to say was something witty or flirty to match the sexually charged banter they’d carried on for these last few months, but her mind was too jumbled to come up with anything clever. Instead, she nodded slowly and felt the word “okay” slide over her lips. Michael’s eyes locked on hers as he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his room.

He kicked the door shut behind him as he heard the undeniable sound of paws scratching along his hardwood floors. Dione could hardly think straight, and when he opened his mouth to speak, she was totally unprepared for what would come out. “We should talk.”

Dione glanced pointedly down to his stiff trousers and let the question fall out before she could stop herself. “Is that really what you want to do?”

Mike laughed shyly but didn’t bother to cover himself. “Clearly, that’s not what I want to do, but I think we need to. Don’t you?”

“What do we need to talk about?” Dione clenched her hands together to stave off her want to touch him.

“Are you being coy, Dione?”

“No, not intentionally. I want you to be explicit.”

He ran an anxious hand through his hair before he took a seat on the bed. He looped his fingers around Dione’s wrist and pulled her to stand in front of him. He looked up at her with timid hope in his eyes. “We need to talk about what happened before I left, when I came onto you in the kitchen.”

She felt her throat tighten in anticipation. “Right, that.”

“Would you like to start?” he let his thumb trace over her knuckles.

“Okay, um…I guess… I don’t know, Michael,” she took a moment to swallow her nerves and close her eyes before she blurted: “It felt really good, and I was bummed when you stopped. I wanted things to go further.” Dione’s face was hot, and her pulse was heavy between her thighs. She couldn’t reveal all of the things she’d hoped to do to him before he had to leave, but Jesus, being in his room like this—him without a shirt and her without pants or underwear—everything was too close and too far at the same time. Her mouth watered.

Michael had a solid grin painted on his cheeks when she opened her eyes again. “Is there anything else you’d like to add?” his voice took on a different tone, one that was gruff and heady. He eyed over her wantonly.

“That’s it, I think…at least, for now.” Dione’s stomach flared, and she recognized that all too familiar tug in her belly.

“So,” he drew the syllable out in a low breath as he rose to his feet, “just so I’m clear, you liked it when I did this?” his lips pressed gently to the skin beneath her ear, and Dione’s legs started to shake. _Is this really happening?_ He trailed his tongue up the side of her neck to her ear before he blew lightly. Dione reached out and curled her fingers around his hips to hold herself upright. She heard a low laugh in her ear. “Is that what you liked?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed in affirmation.

“And this?” he nipped lightly at her exposed collarbone, earning a jagged gasp from Dione’s lips. Her brain was swimming through hazy lust, and she couldn’t be bothered with sentences. She made up her mind then and decided that whatever hesitancies she’d had about sleeping with him were problems to address another day. Right now, all she wanted was to know the sounds he made when he came and how he could fit inside her.

As Mike continued to kiss and lick along her neck, Dione slid her hands across his stomach and chest, hooking her fingers lightly around the waistband of his pants. His tongue flicked the soft spot beneath her ear, and she risked turning her head to his and capturing his gaze. She watched in slow motion as his lips curled into a smile before leaning forward to take her bottom lip between his teeth. Dione could have melted right there, and she felt a rush of arousal surge to her core. She closed her eyes and kissed him, wrapping hands around his neck and slipping her fingers into his hair. His lips were strong and warm and entirely delicious. He began to lift Dione’s t-shirt slightly, just enough to traipse a finger across her soft skin and squeeze his hands around her waist. He was deliriously slow with his kiss, coercing her mouth open and tangling his tongue with hers. He tasted like toothpaste and sleep, and Dione savored his gentle ministrations. She dragged her nails along his scalp, earning a delighted hum of approval and a reactionary jut of his hips.

She pulled back just enough, letting her lips brush over his as she said, “I want to taste you.” Her hands slipped from his hair, down his chest and stomach, to the bulge in his pants. She palmed him lightly, and he released a throaty groan. She took in his eyes, sinful and desirous. “Is that okay?” she asked, nipping on his lips. He nodded eagerly, and Dione kissed him once more before trailing her mouth over his jaw and down his neck. She sank her teeth into his shoulder, feeling his hips shift against her again. She traced her tongue between the muscles on his stomach as she knelt before him. She met his eyes as she licked a path from his belly button to the top of his waistband. Her fingers tugged his pants past his hips and over his pulsing erection. He kicked the pajamas off his ankles and stood up straight.

Dione marveled at the sight of him. From his broad shoulders to the definition in his thighs, she knew her thought to compare him to a glacier felt true. Beneath all his clothes, he truly was pale, jagged, and sharp, like sliding her finger across the v-cut on his stomach would make her bleed. And his grandeur only highlighted the package between his thighs. His penis was hefty and strained and visibly throbbing. Dione longed to touch it, taste it, and before she knew what she was doing, she was reaching forward and wrapping her hand around his member.

A slim blue ring was all that was left of his irises as his pupils grew to the size of saucers. She pushed and pulled on the delicate skin, varying her speed and rhythm and tracking his responses to her touch. She inched closer, bringing his throbbing erection only centimeters from her mouth. She flicked her eyes up to him and licked a firm swipe over the tip.

His chest heaved desperately. “Fuuuck,” he whispered. She relished in his gaze, feeling the power of her sexuality start to bloom. _This would be fun,_ she insisted. She watched him pinch his arm and sigh.

She blinked up at him slowly, letting her tongue trace lazy patterns around the bell of his penis. Her lips massaged him as she asked, “May I?”

Michael nodded viciously, his jaw clenched and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Their gazes were locked on each other as Dione leaned forward slightly and dragged her tongue flat against the underside of his shaft from base to tip. Precum beaded along the seam of his penis, and Dione eagerly lapped at his involuntary expense.

“More, please” Michael muttered breathlessly above her.

Always aiming to please, Dione scooted closer and braced her lips against the tip of his penis. As soon as their eyes met again, she slipped him into her mouth and slowly pushed his throbbing dick to the back of her throat, allowing one hand to cup his balls and press into his pelvic bone.

“Ohhh, fuck…” Michael turned his head to the ceiling when Dione hollowed out her cheeks and slid her lips up the length of his shaft, all before ducking down and doing it over again and again. His verbal response sent an insatiable thrill through her body, and she took that as a cue to indulge in her own pleasure. One hand slid between her thighs, all the while her tongue swirled around the tip of Michael’s penis.

He glanced down to see her playing with herself, and a sexy smirk painted his cheeks. He tangled his hands in Dione’s curls and tugged, bringing her eyes up to his. “Hold still,” he panted. Like the good submissive she suddenly wanted to be, Dione followed directions and stopped her hands and mouth from moving further. He shooed her hands to her lap, and she gazed at him expectantly. Using his leverage on her hair, Michael pulled himself from her mouth, just to the tip, before gently pushing back in. Dione’s eyes fluttered when he hit the back of her throat. He stilled. When she opened her eyes again, his gaze was a mix of patience and concern. One of his hands ran gently along the column of her throat. “Can you take anymore?”

He huffed a husky laugh at her enthusiastic nod before inching the remaining length of his erection down her throat. Her eyes rolled back, and she gagged a bit, but she was in paradise. When she looked up at him again, his breathing was heavy and the muscles in his abdomen were contracting. He’s so close! Once her nose was buried against the trimmed patch of his pubic hair, Dione swallowed, causing the muscles in her throat to tense up and earning her a throaty growl from above. Resisting her urge to gag, she swallowed again and let her tongue curve against the bell of his penis. Michael began to pant, and his eyes screwed shut and the fingers in her hair flexed against her scalp. She hummed appreciatively before swallowing once more. He chuckled lowly and pulled himself out as far as he could go. He held for just a moment, and Dione missed how he throbbed on her tongue. She smiled wickedly up at him. “All done?”

He shook his head and tapped his penis against her lips. “Not even close.” She opened her mouth again, and Michael thrust himself in. Her eyes widened dramatically as he used his grip in her hair to catapult himself forward again and again. She reached her hands up to massage his testicles and stroke the parts of him her mouth couldn’t reach. She felt like heaven, like a sex goddess, and before she knew what was happening, Michael’s hips spasmed and she recognized the undeniable surge of orgasm quake his abdomen. All he said was, “Oh, my God…I’m…” He lost himself in the confines of her throat and held her head still as his orgasm shook through him.

Dione choked in surprise but hollowed her cheeks to draw out the rest of his orgasm. She relished in the salty tang of Michael’s seed and loved the way his member pulsed on her tongue in post-orgasm bursts. After several seconds, his breathing slowed, and he began to flinch every time her tongue stroked over his tip. His hands slipped from her hair as he again pulled himself from her mouth. She held his cum on her tongue for just a second before she closed her mouth and swallowed hungrily. She offered him a seductive grin as he fell back onto the bed, his penis now semi-erect and sated. She refused to let the enormity of what happened sink in, instead choosing to savor the way Michael struggled to control his breathing. She drew her fingers up his thighs, crawling to lean over him and kiss his chest.

Michael returned her smile with one of absolute bliss. He pulled her up to straddle his chest and ran his hands under her t-shirt, pinching and massaging her breasts. She exhaled a ragged sigh and whipped the shirt from her body. He moved his hands to her hips and coaxed her to slide up his chest until her thighs were braced against his shoulders. With a mischievous wiggle of his brows, he said, “Your turn,” and ducked his head to the soaking wet space between her thighs.


	10. Fall Feast

“I’m telling you, man, I just…I don’t know what came over me. One minute I’m in bed, happily enjoying my dreams, and the next minute she’s sitting on my face.” Mike turned the corner out of the locker room and onto the basketball court. His friend Liam trailed behind him with a sweat towel over his shoulder.

“It sounds like it was hot, dude.” Liam dropped his things on the bench and snatched a ball from the rack nearby. He dribbled a few times, taking a practice shot from the three-point line.

Michael propped his leg up on the bench to tie his shoes before joining his friend out on the court. “No, it was, but—”

“What but? Why but?” Liam continued shooting around the arch while Michael rebounded beneath the net.

“It was just…I’m not like that. I don’t…do that…with just anyone. I don’t know what possessed me to do that with her. We’re not even dating. Jesus, Liam, she works for me!”

“Like I said, sounds hot.”

Michael caught his next shot and held it under his arm. He had to admit it: Liam was right. That morning he spent with Dione after he came back from Buffalo was indescribable. He found himself salivating at the memory of her bare skin and of the sounds that fell from her mouth. The whole morning felt so surreal that he was sure it was a dream until he woke up to find a note from Dione on his kitchen counter. All it said was _Thank you for this morning xx the dogs have been fed and walked, your spare room is cleaned. Talk soon? ~ D_

And that was it. Nothing about what she thought, how she felt, nothing other than the most mundane information. It left Mike with nothing to do but stew in his thoughts of inadequacy and unfulfillment and insecurity. All she had to say was _thank you_? Seriously? If he recalled correctly, he had her legs shaking around his ears multiple times, and the most she could muster to write down about their morning together was thank you? She swallowed his cum, and they fell asleep together…or at least, he thought they did. He wasn’t quite sure when Dione left him. And that was the other thing: she left him. She left him naked in his bed to do the job that he was paying her to do and then she didn’t come back to bed. He kept the note in his bedside table and stared at it some nights wondering what the hell went wrong that she would leave him like that? What was he supposed to think? How was he supposed to feel?

But if that note was burning a hole in his brain, the days that followed were withering his soul. Dione just went about her work as if nothing happened, walking the dogs when he was out and checking in about other video projects. Elliott had returned, but Michael wished he’d had just a few more weeks to unpack what this “friendship” looked like now. Over the last week, Mike had been torturing himself trying to avoid having to actually see Dione. Texting and calling her were fine. He could feign his composure through the phone. But whenever he saw her, his stomach started to do that flip-flop thing, and his dick would start to ache with want. On the rare occasion that he did run into her as he was leaving, he pretended to be on a phone call that was urgent and he absolutely, positively could not be stopped to chat. And she took it without protest. She just grinned, waved, and greeted his dogs.

Overall, though, Mike was simply embarrassed. He wasn’t the type to fool around with someone casually. Before his channel took off, he was wholly invested in medicine, and that was great. He was in love with a woman he thought would be his wife, practicing in a small town, but when he was offered a research opportunity, he couldn’t say no, and his partner couldn’t say yes. At the time it crushed him. Once he moved to the city, he tried casually dating, but then his channel took off and suddenly everyone who wanted to date him was a fan in some way. He struggled to find any genuine connections with women, and after his failed one-night stand, he hadn’t done anything with anyone in almost a year. And for Dione to leave him after what he thought was an incredible morning, it left him feeling out of practice and insufficient.

He shot a quick layup before passing the ball back to Liam. “What do I say to her?”

“Jesus, Mike, it’s not surgery. You told me she keeps hanging with the dogs, right? She’s still doing the job you pay her to do without hassle, right? So what’s the big fuckin’ deal, man? If you want to say something, say something, but don’t make this a bigger deal than it is.”

“Sex is a big deal!”

“I thought you said it was only oral?”

“Well, yeah, it was but—”

“Then it doesn’t even count.”

“Yes, it does!”

“Nah, but go ahead. Why do you think sex is a big deal?” Liam finally conceded that an actual game of one-on-one wasn’t going to take place until Mike got out of his head about all of this. He parked the ball on his hip and waited for Mike to come up with something.

“Sex is a bodily commitment to another person. It’s about trust. You know me, Liam. I don’t sleep around or bring girls home every weekend. But I don’t know if Dione is that kind of person, too. Does she just throw it around to anyone who asks? Did what we do mean anything to her? And it makes me feel like…I don’t know. Like I’ve exploited our professional boundaries or something.”

“’Exploited professional boundaries’? Take it easy, Mike. She walks your dogs. It’s not like you’re the CEO and she’s the intern. You guys had a bit of fun, and from what you’ve said, it sounds like she’s just going about her business, which is exactly what you should do. She’s not making a big deal out of it. Why are you?”

“Because she isn’t! She’s acting like nothing happened, while I have to fight a hard-on anytime I see her!”

“Oh, my God, dude! Just talk to her, ask her if she wants to do it again.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then take that blow to the ego, buck up, and find someone else. And if she says yes, then you better tell me everything in explicit detail, especially,” Liam raised two fingers to either side of his mouth and ran his tongue suggestively through the middle, “how she tastes.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mike rolled his eyes and fought the jealous rage that threatened to overtake him.

“Alright, alright—jokes aside, just talk to her. You’re both consenting adults. Now, can we get back to the game?”

Later that evening, Mike stood on the doorstep of a multimillion-dollar home in a suburb outside of the city with three bottles of wine and two handles of whiskey tucked under his arms. After his basketball game with Liam, he had taken the day for himself. He cleaned his apartment, went to the barbershop, and even purchased himself new shoes, all in preparation for his dinner plans. After he and Maya caught up at his clinic’s party, Mike had reconnected with his old friend Lucas, and tonight, he and Maya were hosting a seasonal dinner party, or their Fall Feast, as Maya named it. Mike knew—or at least, suspected—that Dione would be in attendance and spared no expense when getting himself put together for the evening. He looked good and hoped that his outward appearance could mask his internal strife. He shivered against the October wind and finally rang the doorbell. From outside he could hear the throes of the party taking place. Laughter and music spilled into the night when Maya swung the door open a moment later.

Her cheeks were rosy, and she balanced a flute of champagne in her hand. Her face lit up in a smile, “Michael Vale, oh my God! Come in, come in! We’re letting the warm air out.” She ushered him inside and took notice of the bottles clanking at his sides. “You are a godsend, I tell you. Lucas! Mike’s here!” She hollered over her shoulder before snatching the wine and gesturing to a closet. “Coats go in there—kitchen is straight ahead. If you get lost, just yell Marco.”

To say the least, Mike was impressed with the foyer he found himself in. High ceilings, exposed wood beams, warm, chocolatey hard wood floors—the house looked more inviting inside, like it belonged somewhere in the woods of Vermont and not a mere hour drive from Times Square. He slid out of his coat and tucked it in with all the others before following his ears to the kitchen. Around a massive island sat eight strangers, all deep in the midst of conversation and jokes. Platters of hors d’oeuvres splayed between them all. Standing above the stovetop whisking something in a large pot was Lucas.  
Maya suddenly flanked to his side, whispered something in his ear, and then turned to face Michael. Lucas wiped his hands on his apron and turned around with a giant grin on his face. His skin was dark and peppered with beads of sweat. He extended his hand in greeting, “Glad you could join us, Mike. Hey, excuse me. Everyone, this is Dr. Michael Vale. We met while we were both residents at the same hospital. Mike, this is…” As he named each person, Mike’s heart sank a little lower as he realized that in this room, he truly only knew Lucas and Maya, and Dione was nowhere to be found.

He settled himself in beside a petite blonde woman whose posture automatically adjusted. She turned to him and offered him a red-nailed hand. “Nice to meet you. Can I just say, you look awfully familiar, Mike? Where do you practice?”

“Wait, wait—I think I’ve seen you on TV or something.”

“Yeah, or like….Oh! I’ve got it! You’re on Instagram!”

The wave of realization seemed to wash over everyone all at once, and a couple folks pulled out their phones to prove their theories. Mike took it all in stride and simply held a polite grin on his cheeks. Before he could confirm or deny their assumptions, he caught a flash of red in his peripheries. He turned and what he saw almost stopped his heart.

Dione swished down the gray-carpeted stairs wearing a button-down dress that stopped just above her knees. On her feet were tall, purple fuzzy socks that completely clashed with her outfit, and in her hands was an old-style film camera. Her hair was wild and loose and framed her face in a halo of curls. And her face…she was effervescent. Her eyes were ablaze, and her wine stained lips held a smile that Michael swore could’ve powered the sun. The thought occurred to him suddenly: She looks like home. He closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps she was a mirage, but when he opened them again, he saw her, and she was coming toward him.

Without warning she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed a featherlight kiss to his cheek. “I’m so glad you could come,” she whispered before retracting and plucking a honey-drizzled pear slice from the middle of the island.

“Yeah, me too,” he mumbled quietly. She took a bite out of the appetizer and put her hand to her mouth. His eyes fell to her lips as she swiped her tongue over the tip of her finger, collecting the honey that had escaped. When his eyes found hers again, she turned the pear slice toward him and coaxed his mouth open. Mike took the rest of the pear between his teeth and closed his mouth, catching her fingers between his lips. She gave him a sultry wink before pulling her hand back and joining the conversation.

It was subtle, but it was enough to rev Mike’s engine. He wanted her, and he wanted her now. Suddenly, all of his worries from that morning floated away on a cloud of desperate sexual energy. He didn’t care if what they did meant anything to her. All he cared about was hearing her sigh his name just once more. He moved just a smidge to trap her between his knees. He leaned one elbow on the island and trailed the fingers of his other hand along the back of her thighs, skimming just above the hemline of her dress. He pretended to be engaged in the evening around him, when really all he could think about was what would happen if he had thirty minutes alone with the temptress beside him.

Mike felt his heart in his throat as he continued his gentle touches, just waiting for her to swat him away or lean into him or give him a sign that he wasn’t the only one losing his mind. A smirk lit her lips as she spoke to the guests around the kitchen, but other than that, she gave no indication that she even noticed his proximity. He glanced around, trying to gauge where everyone’s attentions were focused, before risking the treacherous climb beneath her dress. He slid his fingernails up her thigh from knee to cheek and back down. Still, there was nothing in her demeanor that would suggest she was affected.

To the untrained eye, she seemed to simply be reveling in the party, but to Michael’s doctoral gaze, he saw all the signs of arousal begin to present themselves: elevated heartrate and respiration, a simmering blush on her cheeks and down her neck, goosebumps, trembling. As she tipped a glass of wine to her lips, Mike took his final risk and dug his fingers firmly into the flesh of her ass. She coughed into her wine, drawing curious glances their direction. Michael flashed a quick grin before feigning concern. “You alright?”

She cut her eyes to him and offered a mischievous smile. “I’m fine, just went down the wrong pipe is all.” The party slowly returned to its chatter, and Michael returned his hand to her backside. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, and she stifled a giggle.

Michael leaned over her, reaching for a slice of pumpkin bread, and spoke lowly so only Dione could hear. “Tell me to stop.” She held his eyes for a moment before slowly shaking her head. He raised his eyebrows as he became astutely aware of her fingers sliding up the inseam of his dress pants. When her hand hit gold, Michael closed his eyes briefly only to see a wicked smirk on Dione’s face when he looked up again.

She quirked a brow at him and muttered quietly, “Tell _me_ to stop.” Blood pooled in his groin as her fingers traced over the hardening member. Her movements were teasing and delicate, and it was driving Michael to madness. He was half tempted to pull her into his lap right then, but to his immediate displeasure, Maya tapped the side of her glass with a spoon. Dione turned her attention to her friend but continued her wicked torture between his thighs.

“Thank you all for coming tonight! Apologies for the delay on dinner. Grab your drinks, and head to the dining room, and let’s eat!” Maya gestured with her recently-refilled wine glass to a doorway just off the kitchen where a giant table was set for a feast. Everyone around the island started to move to the dining room, but Dione and Michael stayed put. Dione’s palm still curved around the shaft of his erection, and Michael’s fingers still danced along her thighs.

Lucas was the last person to exit and gave Michael a curious glance. He held a giant serving bowl of mashed potatoes. “You two doing okay?”

Dione had started to stroke him imperceptibly, and the feeling left him with a head full of lust. He was thankful that Dione was so quick to address his question, as any prolonged silence would have been a dead giveaway to their interactions under the table.

“We’re fine. I just wanted to ask Michael about some video stuff and scheduling.”

Lucas wasn’t quick to believe her, but he shook his head. “Y’all can do that later. Come on. It’s time to eat.” He waited for them to move. Dione slipped her hand from Mike’s erection, squeezed his thigh, and swished away, following Lucas into the dining room. Mike, however, had a bit of adjusting to do before he himself walked into the room and slid into the only open seat between Dione and Maya. His penis protested his confinement against the waistband of Mike’s pants.

The dinner went on as well as any Fall Feast could go, but for the life of him, Mike couldn’t remember a single thing that anyone said. There was laughter and drinking and eating and teasing. Eventually, everyone started to disperse until it was just Michael, Maya, Lucas, and Dione. They sat around a gas fireplace, each holding a glass of something. Maya leaned into Lucas, as she nibbled from the pie on his plate. Dione was more than tipsy, having consumed what was likely an entire bottle of wine by herself, and was lounging on the floor. She held her camera in one hand and a wine glass in the other, sipping and snapping simultaneously.

Mike watched her with a small grin on his face and a dull ache in his groin. She looked so…comfortable and whole and good. She reminded him of his mom’s cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning, gave him that feeling in his belly that told him he was safe. She caught him staring and smirked, leaning back on her heels to take a photo.

“I wasn’t ready,” he joked, reaching for her camera. She held it just out of arm’s reach before downing the rest of her wine and placing the empty glass on the coffee table. Mike watched as she rose to her feet, plopped beside him on the sofa, and swung her legs over his thighs. He smiled. There was something about how comfortable she was in sharing his physical space in front of other people that planted a little seed of hope in his chest. He draped one arm over the back of the couch and the other across her shins. Their gazes locked on one another for what felt like somewhere between a second and a year, and it was only interrupted when Lucas cleared his throat.

“Mike, what’s it like being a famous influencer?” Lucas said it with a joking tinge in his voice, knowing how awkward Mike actually felt about his online personality.

He shrugged, “It’s weird, for sure. The worst part is when people call into the clinic and ask to talk to me. Or when they show up and want to be seen by me and me alone, but they present no medical distress or symptoms. Honestly, Maya, I don’t know how your mom deals with it.”

Maya laughed and sat up straighter, “Oh, she doesn’t. She puts that on one of the newer faces. She says it helps them get thicker skin.”

Lucas turned to his wife, “Isn’t that how we met the first time?”

“What do you mean ‘the first time’?” Mike asked, trying to ignore the way Dione’s calves were nestled comfortably against his penis.

“Lucas and I first met at the hospital when I was visiting my mom. I stopped in the food court to get a quick snack. Lucas came up to me all high and mighty, talking about ‘you know I’m studying to be a surgeon’ and ‘I went to this school and blah blah look at me I’m the best do you want to get dinner blah blah’. I was a bit rude, I think—”

“Rude? You didn’t even say no! All you did was give me a side eye, scoff, and walk away! I had to go back to my table of friends looking like a fool because—”

“—Oh boohoo! I can’t believe you were trying to hit on someone who was at the hospital!”

“I thought you were hot!”

“In either case, I tell my mom the story and she just starts laughing because apparently some surgical intern was pitching a fit about getting rejected in the cafeteria by a hot girl.”

“Jane told me to get some thicker skin because not every girl is going to be interested in a doctor.” The couple grinned playfully at one another.

The story made his heart warm. He couldn’t help but think about how he and Dione had met at first, when Mike was being cocky and she rejected him only to be reconnected later by Jane’s daughter. He grinned, feeling that seed of hope sprout in his belly. When he turned to Dione, she was completely ignoring the conversation around her, instead focusing intently on the flames that licked the faux brick of the fireplace. He ran his hand along her calf to get her attention. She blinked at him and offered a small smile, but her eyes were vacant.

Maya caught their interaction and gasped dramatically, “Oh, my God! I can’t believe I didn’t see this sooner. You guys are together! Aren’t you? Oh, D! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lucas whipped his head around and his eyes settled into a glare pointed directly at Mike. “Excuse me? What the fuck, dude? She’s like my sister!”

Mike was taken aback and struggled to find the words to explain, while Dione laughed casually, “Chill, you guys. You know I don’t date. We’re just friends, nothing more than that.” A punch in the gut or a smack in the face or frankly a kick to the groin would have felt less brutal. She just doesn’t date? What did that even mean? Before he could think too much about it, Dione was gathering her camera and glass. “I should get going. My Lyft is going to be here in a few minutes.”

She took off for the kitchen, leaving Mike with questions and flushed cheeks. Maya followed her, mumbling an apology to Mike as she left. Lucas looked at him and shrugged, “My bad, dude. I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“What does she mean? She doesn’t date? What is she talking about? Why not?” Mike ignored his apologies.

A skeptical brow raised in his direction. “Why do you ask?”

He fumbled for words before he stomped out of the room. He found Dione cleaning up the kitchen and humming quietly. He braced his palm against her hip and muttered into her ear, “Let me take you home.”

Dione stilled and cast her eyes over her shoulder. “You sure?”

“Please,” he whispered.


	11. Relieved Tension

Mike wished he could say the ride back into the city was full of laughter and flirting and some harmless touching, but it was the opposite. The night played out like a complicated movie in his mind. Things were so good at the beginning, when he found himself aching for her proximity. But then, at the end, he felt like the floor vanished beneath him and he was freefalling into a sea of confusion and crushed dreams. He was anxious, not just about Dione’s non-dating, but also about how Lucas and Maya reacted to their assumptions. Why was Lucas so heated? And what was that look on Maya’s face when she asked? Was she…concerned? Scared?

His nervous energy was palpable. It must have been with the way Dione kept staring at him. She wasn’t judgmental or angry, just curious. It wasn’t until he was pulling through the underground garage of his building that he realized they hadn’t spoken the entire ride, which meant that he didn’t even ask if she wanted to come back to his place, or if she wanted him to drop her off at her apartment. The sinking realization set in that he hadn’t even been inside her apartment before. He pulled into his reserved spot and waited. For what, he wasn’t sure.

After several beats, Dione reached over and shut off the ignition, killing the lights and submitting them to the dim glow of the garage’s emergency exit signs. She dropped her hand to his knee and began the slow ascent up his thigh. Mike’s breath stumbled from his throat when she trailed her fingers along his zipper. He finally met her eyes, but her expression was indecipherable. Hooded lust was apparent, but behind there something begged to be untangled. He tried to analyze, but then he felt her hand on his penis and everything turned red. Her strokes were shallow and light and teasing, and soon enough, he could sense the arousal pulse through his hardened cock. Swallowing harshly, he reached for her hand between his thighs and stilled her movements. He took a breath, then two.

When he inhaled a third time, the warmth of her skin against his disappeared. Her face came into focus as she maneuvered over the center console and slipped her knees around his hips. She settled herself into his lap, knowingly rubbing her center against his aching erection. She was arched slightly, her lips against his neck. He was confused and hot and needy and desperate and trying fiercely to keep himself from plunging into her. His questions and doubts floated just beyond the car doors, waiting for him the moment he broke the seal of their confinement. Dione took his hands in hers and brought them to her lips before pushing them beneath the hem of her dress. Mike’s skin prickled with excitement when his knuckles met the damp heat of her center. “You…you’re not wearing…” he let his sentence fall into the heavy silence.

She pressed her lips delicately against his, mumbling, “Touch me, please.”

He kissed her eagerly, splaying his fingers along her sex. She was soaking, and the sensation of her slick skin muddled his brain. There was no thinking, no questioning, no talking, just feeling. Breathing. Kissing. He had to force himself to be slow when trailing his middle finger across her clit, but as soon as he brushed alongside the nerved bundle, he heard a sharp gasp fall from her mouth. He sought her eyes in the dim light for permission to continue, to ask if she was okay. What he got in response was her hand slipping between their bodies to take hold of his erection. As she started to pull at his member, Mike forced himself to match her pace and pressure. He moved his fingers in gentle circles as she rocked her hips in time with his touch.

“Oh, God, yes,” she purred as he sank one long digit inside her, curling into her warmth. With the pad of his finger he rubbed along the ridge of her pubic bone, seeking the point where she responded best. He tapped lightly on the spongy flesh and was granted a slurred string of expletives. Dione arched into him, wrapped her hand through his hair. “Michael, please—"

The sudden flash of lights caught their attention. Panting, they separated, and their hands stilled their exploration. They watched the car that had the audacity to interrupt them as it rounded a corner and went to a different level of the garage. When the hum of the engine disappeared, they finally looked at each other. His trance broken, Mike closed his eyes and withdrew his hands from her body. He exhaled lowly, “We can’t do this here.”

“Then take me upstairs.” Her eyes held that same unreadable emotion, and there was a hint of desperation in the way her voice trembled. He stared at her for a long beat, trying to gauge what was holding her attention. Her hand was still wrapped around his erection, but the seal that had protected him from his worries had shattered.

He shook his head, “Dione—”

“Please?” she pouted, and the image was deliriously precious.

He eyed her sadly before conceding. He nodded, “Okay, sure. Let’s go.”

She leaned forward and kissed him, but it wasn’t excited or hurried. It felt…distant. She crawled back into the passenger seat, straightened her dress, and sighed. Several seconds passed before she finally exhaled. “No, I should go. You clearly don’t want to do this, and I shouldn’t have pushed you. I’m sorry, Michael. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Before he could process her words, she was already out of his car and halfway to the garage elevator. He struggled to put his half-hard dick back in his pants and jolted from the car. “Dione, wait!” he made it to her side just as the elevator doors were opening. Michael placed himself strategically in front of the floor number panel, pressing the number 8 before blocking her access.

She cleared her throat and dropped her eyes, “I was going to get out on the first floor and go through the front doors.”

“We’re going upstairs,” he tried to put a lilt of hope in his tone, but in his heart, he knew the moment was gone. He was going to bring her to his apartment, and they were going to stare at each other or force conversation until she decided she’d had enough and left him.

When the doors opened on the 8th floor, he willed himself to be confident. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall and over the threshold of his home. “Michael, really, I can just—”

“Stop it. Take your shoes off. Sit on the couch. We’re talking. What would you like to drink?”

She reached down to her knee-high leather boots and started to unzip them. A grin spread her cheeks, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You sure you want to talk? Last time we did that we didn’t say very much.”

“Ha. Ha.” Mike rolled his eyes, but it soothed him to know she could hold her humor. “Pick a seat, and I’ll take the one farthest away from you.”

He ducked into the kitchen, pulling bottle after bottle from his liquor cabinet. With two glasses in one hand, and a few handles in his other, he sat across the living room from her on a bench by the window. As soon as he settled, she scooted to one corner of his couch. She patted the seat beside her, “Liquor goes here, you go there.” She pointed to the other side of the couch. “That bench looks like a miserable place to sit.”

Mike grinned, of course he did. He made the necessary movements, mumbling, “That bench is incredibly comfortable, but you’re right. Drinks should be here.” He sat down, angling his body so one knee was perched on the couch and the other hung off the side. Dione faced him, her legs tucked under her and her dress rising dangerously. His eyes flicked briefly to the apex of her thighs, but the prize of her glorious center was denied to him by the sudden presence of a throw pillow crashing his line of sight. He looked up to see her blushing.

She shrugged, “The risks of not wearing panties.”

“Yeah, let’s talk about that.”

“Oh, God, I need a drink.”

Mike leaned forward, uncorking a bottle of red wine. “Strong enough for you?”

She eyed his alcohol assortment, “Do I spy a Johnnie Walker Black Label?”

He privately praised her taste before recorking the wine and pouring two fingers of Scotch into both glasses. “Now, tell me. Why weren’t you wearing any panties?”

She took a hearty sip, coughed, and sighed. Her shoulders relaxed and she closed her eyes. “I think that answer’s pretty obvious.”

“Okay, a different question then. I recall at dinner that you were wearing very, very soft panties under your dress when I was grabbing your ass. When did you take them off?”

“On the way back to the city. You didn’t look at me the whole time, so I thought I could seduce my way into getting your attention. I even asked you to lift your arm so I could put them in your center console and you said nothing. You didn’t know until I…” she swallowed harshly. Though a playful grin lit her cheeks, her hands trembled with nerves.

“So…what was the expectation then?”

Her eyes glimmered for a beat. “You know the answer to that, too.”

“Expectations can never be assumed, Dione.”

She took another slow draw from the glass, cocked her head, and made direct, unflinching eye contact with him. “I expected you to fuck me silly in your car.”

Immediately Mike felt blood rush to his pained groin. He cleared his throat and pulled on his own Scotch. “Those are very clear expectations. I am sorry I couldn’t…deliver.”

“No need to apologize. As soon as we left the neighborhood, I should have figured you wouldn’t want me. I should have known better, but wine makes me horny and being around Maya and Lucas, especially when they’re talking about old times, I don’t know. Sometimes it just makes me feel…. Whatever, it’s stupid.”

She finished the rest of her glass, shivered, and reached for the bottle again. Mike moved it from her grasp, “Whoa, now, back up. What do you mean I wouldn’t want you?”

“Johnnie me, first.”

“Answer the question.”

A tense minute passed while they held each other’s stares. If it were any other time, Mike would have caved long ago, but he willed himself to stay strong in the face of her incredible stubbornness. Eventually she cracked, leaning back into the arm rest and lifting her knees to her chest. Mike risked a peek but was again thwarted by a throw pillow’s strategic placement under her legs. She exhaled, long and slow. “You seemed freaked out, and I can only assume it was from Maya and Lucas thinking we were together. I tried to quell any nerves by reminding them that I don’t date, but I think that made it worse for you. I figured you wanted to drive me home to establish boundaries about our relationship, but then you weren’t talking, so I just went with the dramatic, yet not unrealistic, option that you wanted nothing to do with me—sexually, at least.”

“You got all that from my driving silently?”

“Well, what was I supposed to think? Didn’t give me a lot to go on.”

He ran a hand over his face. “I just take a long time to process information sometimes.”

“Come on, Michael. Give me an inch here. What information did I divulge that required you to go all white-knuckle racecar for the entire ninety-minute drive back to your house?”

“You don’t date.”

“Yeah, so?”

“If you don’t date, then what do you do?”

“I hang out, make friends.”

“That’s it? You don’t take things any further?”

“What are you looking for? I have friends, and sometimes, I sleep with them, if that’s what you’re asking. Is that what this is all about? My stance on relationships?”

“Why don’t you date?”

“Michael, it’s not that serious—”

“Then answer the question.”

“—we hooked up once! Why do you care?” she folded her arms over her chest and turned a suspicious gaze on him.

“It’s just—I want to understand why someone who is hardly 26 has given up on dating.” Mike mentally applauded himself for a quick save.

“It’s not giving up if you never gave it a chance in the first place.”

“Dione, come on. Help me understand it.”

She reached for the wine, flicking the cork away and taking a sip straight from the bottle. “Dating leads to expectations, and expectations lead to disappointment. There. Happy?”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Oh, please! Most men are perfectly happy when I explain that I want nothing from them but their company. No strings attached and all that. No one owes me anything. I am my only commitment. It’s just less stressful that way.”

With every word she said, Mike could feel a pain in his chest and stomach. He felt like he swallowed a watermelon, and now it was sitting in his gut, taunting him. It only made matters worse when Dione moved the pillow from its place and exposed herself to him on accident. The throb in his cock made sure he noticed that she was still wet. He started to salivate.

“Is it my turn to ask a question?” her voice was airy, a whisper.

When he caught her eyes again, he knew he’d been caught staring at her core. He took a long pull from the brown liquor in his glass. “I’m an open book.”

“Do you want me?” the question, though sultry in content, was aired with a tone of anxiety rather than seduction. Bottom lip tucked tightly between her teeth.

“In what ways?” He hardly recognized the sound of his own voice as it adopted a husky timbre and gravelly reverb in his skull. Yes, he wanted to throw her up against a wall and have her screaming for him right now. He also wanted to make her pancakes on Sunday mornings or take her to his favorite coffee shop way out in Bed-Stuy. He wanted her to meet his parents and his sister. He wanted to travel the world with her and have really long, luxurious sex on a sunbed on a private beach in the Caribbean or in a five-star hotel overlooking the Eifel Tower or in a tent under the Northern Lights in Iceland. Above all, he wanted to fall asleep and wake up next to her, but he now fully understood that she didn’t want that. Not with him, not with anyone. The thought made his muscles spasm.

She pondered a second, tapping her finger on the edge of her glass before setting it down on the coffee table. One by one she moved the liquor bottles to the ground and crawled over to him. Laced hands fiddled in her lap. “In any way?”

“In every way,” he mumbled, shocked at his own truth telling.

She smiled sadly and placed a cautious hand on his thigh. “I can’t promise you anything, and I completely understand if you say no, but maybe we could try the casual route? No strings, no obligations, no expectations. Just us and our bodies. If you start seeing someone, just let me know and I’ll be totally cool with that. I will still come over to hang with the dogs, and I’ll still be your friend. I’ll just be a friend that you used to sleep with.” As she spoke her hand drifted north and she palmed his erection over his dress slacks.

Perhaps he couldn’t think straight, or perhaps he was too enticed by this idea of noncommittal sex, or perhaps he was so desperate to feel her lips on his dick that he was ready to agree to anything, so long as she did that thing with her throat. Whatever the reason, he found himself muttering the words, “I can try.”

She grinned and her grip tightened around his member. “What about starting now?”

He needed no other instructions. He slammed the rest of his Scotch, plopped the glass onto the end table, and tangled his hands in her curls. Bodies crashed together in a flurry of hands and tongues and clothes. Dione made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, sliding the soft fabric over his shoulders. He hooked his arms around her thighs and positioned her just as she was in his car only a short time ago.

He nipped her bottom lip and whispered against her mouth, “One day I’ll fuck you silly in my car.”

She grinned into a slower, sultrier kiss. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“And what about now?”

“I can fuck you silly here, too.”

“Say no more,” with a wicked twitch of her lips, she unbuttoned his pants, pulled his hardened length from its confines, and stroked firmly. His head fell back as her fingers circled the shaft almost completely and her mouth scorched a line down his throat. He twisted and wiggled until his pants were at his ankles. A deep sigh fell from his mouth before a harsh inhale when he felt something warm, wet, and tight encompass his erection. He flashed his eyes to hers to see absolute glee written across her features. A panic rushed through him but was immediately quelled when she kissed him lightly, dragged her thumb across his lips, and whispered, “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

The part of her he’d been eyeing hungrily all evening now sheathed him. As she sank deeper onto him, her face contorted in pain followed immediately by pleasure. Mike couldn’t stop the groan that choked its way out when he felt the tip of his penis nudge what he presumed was her cervix. Everything he’d ever imagined about what being inside her would feel like was leagues below what he was experiencing. She felt like the first snow of the season, when his skin would flood with goosebumps and a certain, insatiable thrill filled him and all he wanted was to be wrapped in a sweater and breathe in the clean, winter air.

She took a deep breath when she couldn’t take in anymore of his length. As she adjusted and settled, she rolled her hips and the sensation made Mike’s testicles heave in excitement. Hands trailed up her thighs and rested squarely on her ass. Their gazes locked, he pulled her in, luring her to ride him, but she was slow, painfully slow, as she lifted and dropped herself on his member. Mike could’ve lost his mind, and it took everything in him to hold himself together.

He tried to distract himself, turning his attention to the buttons of her dress. He worked quickly but tried not to come off as too eager for risk of blowing his load prematurely. He lasered his focus on the way her breasts bobbled as she panted above him. Once the dress was open, he grabbed onto the fleshy mounds and admired how the soft skin seeped through the cracks in his grasp. Her hands covered his as she rocked against him, and she offered him a kind smile. He could only stare at her, wishing he had a camera to capture everything in a still frame he could revisit.

When they had hooked up the last time, he hadn’t had the chance to look at her body properly, having only removed her shirt when her clit was already on his tongue. Seeing her now, with her skin the color of melted toffee and her breasts the perfect size for his hands, gliding his penis into and out of her—he was entranced. As he peered up at her face, he couldn’t stop the cheesy smile from spreading his lips nor could he stop the damned petal of hope from lodging itself in his chest. He was pleased when her smile matched his as she leaned down to kiss him. Their tongues tangled together, and he took her bottom lip between his teeth. As he did, he gently pinched her nipples between his fingers. Her physical response could have sent him to the moon. While he was buried inside her, he felt her walls tremble and clench. He tested the response again, tweaking once more. Again, her walls tensed and her hips jolted forward. He moved from kissing her to swirling his tongue along her breast, drawing the pebbled nubs into his mouth and sucking harshly. Her hands flew to his hair, her riding picked up, and she sighed loudly. “Oh, fuck…”

He continued to lick at the sensitive spots, slipping his hands to her hips and holding her steady. Mike braced his feet on the ground and slid down the couch a bit more. When he had enough leverage, he tilted his hips back and drove into her roughly. The cry of delight that pierced the air spurred him on, and he began to thrust into her, pulling out to the tip before sinking back in. Her gasps and whimpers made him crazy, and he felt a sudden pull in his gut. Immediately he pulled out and caught his breath, but Dione was having none of it. She plunged herself down on his aching cock and rode him for everything he was. Soon enough he was seeing stars, and all he could do was hold on. He heard a shift in her breathing that excited him to no end. It was the same shift he remembered when her thighs quaked against his ears. She was close. Her eyes found his, and she shook her head. “I’m—I’m—”

Michael slammed into her again, taking her orgasm as his responsibility and pushing her to the edge. She gripped onto his shoulders while his penis struck her in the right spot over and over again. Before long, her body was trembling and she was sighing his name, “Michael, I…don’t…stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Michael, please I’m…. Yes! Michael! Yes! Right there. Oh, God, Michael!” Her walls throbbed around his dick as she came, but he kept pushing into her, trying to prolong her orgasm for as long as possible.

What he didn’t expect was for those pulsations to draw out the beginnings of his own orgasm. Dione continued to rock her hips against his, and it hit him too quickly to realize. All he knew was that Dione felt so good and he couldn’t imagine pulling out of her warmth now. He tried to tell her he was close, but his words were jumbled between kisses and his own moans of ecstasy. His sighs got louder and the pull in his stomach grew stronger, and faster than he liked, he spent himself inside her. All he felt was release and Dione’s hands in his hair. She kissed him lightly as she continued her gentle rocking until Mike’s face screwed up in pain anytime she moved up or down his shaft. He stayed inside her until he felt his erection lose its rigidity. He shifted and lifted until he was all the way out before letting her settle into straddling his lap.

“Thank you,” she whispered, claiming his mouth with her own.

A wave of realization hit him, and he pulled back violently. “Fuck! Fuck! Oh my God, I came inside you. I didn’t use a condom, and we haven’t even—are you on birth control? Fuck! I’ll buy Plan B tomorrow. I’m so sorry. Fuck!”

She wiped a thumb over his eyebrow and smiled, “Relax, Michael. There’s nothing to worry about, okay? I’m not going to get pregnant.”

“But are you on birth control? I can’t believe I didn’t even think to put on a condom. I’m so, so sorry, Dione. Please let me buy you—”

A hand fell over his mouth midsentence. She shook her head, “Stop apologizing. I’m not sorry. And please, believe me when I tell you that I am not going to get pregnant.”

“Is that because you’re on something? What do you have? An IUD, the shot, the pill—come on. I’m freaking out and you’re not and that’s freaking me out more.”

“Michael, I can’t get pregnant.” She stared at him seriously, her lips devoid of a smile.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly that: I cannot get pregnant. It is physically impossible.”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—”

“What did I tell you about apologizing?”

“But, I mean…how? You’re so young, and these are scientifically your most fertile years. How do you know it’s impossible?”

She rolled her eyes and stood up. “Jesus, can you stop being such a doctor for a minute?”

“No, wait—” he grabbed her hands as she plucked her dress from the ground. “I just don’t understand. I don’t want to get you pregnant—I mean, not that it would be a bad thing—and it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…wait! No, I didn’t mean… What I meant to say is that—”

“Michael, stop,” she cradled his face in her hands and kissed him. “To keep a long story short, I had a hysterectomy when I was 22. I cannot get pregnant. Now, I’m going to use the restroom, and then I’m going home.” He watched her walk away, pulling her dress over her shoulders.

Lost. Confused. Angry. Relieved. Sad. He cycled through an emotional rollercoaster before settling into a state of Overwhelmed. He didn’t understand what it was that compelled him to run to his bedroom and grab an old t-shirt and wait in the hallway for her to leave the bathroom, but as soon as the door opened, the words melted on his lips as he spoke. “Stay with me tonight.”

“What?” she looked mostly confused, but slightly horrified by the idea.

“Don’t go home. Stay here with me…please,” he presented the t-shirt to her as if it were dangerous, as if it somehow spoke to his desperation to have her as his own. Dione eyed the ball of cotton for what felt to him like forever before she stuck her hand out and fingered over the soft material.

She smiled at him sadly, “I told you I don’t sleep.”

“I didn’t ask you to sleep. I asked you to stay.”

Another long pause drew Michael’s anxiety to the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed his nerves and waited for her to pull in a big breath and meet his eyes. She grinned. “Okay.”


	12. What You Never Knew You Wanted

A tingling sensation drove Dione to open her eyes. This wasn’t her bed. Or her home. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she almost screamed but she felt a pull on her stomach and a gravelly voice found her. “It’s okay. We’re okay.” Right. She remembered now.

Memories returned to her in splashes. Her head started to pound. As the darkness settled so did her heartbeat. “Michael?” she reached for his hand, splayed along her waist. This was becoming familiar.

He pressed a featherlight kiss to the nape of her neck and let his breath float over her ear. He laced his fingers through hers. “Yeah?” She didn’t answer. She rolled over, finding his face in the dim light escaping from the blackout drapes on the window. Dione studied him. The curve of his lips. The angle of his jaw. The prominence of his cheekbones. The length of his dark eyelashes. She inched closer to him. He draped his arm around her, eyes still closed, and licked over his lip. That rocky voice again. “You okay? Another nightmare?”

Again, she didn’t answer. Instead, with one shaking finger, she traced the shape of his mouth. His eyes opened, and Dione was shocked by their crystalline appearance in the city’s nightly glow. He blinked at her, bringing her into focus. She traipsed a delicate line around his lips until they cracked into a smile.

“That tickles,” he huffed a laugh.

She bared a partial grin, taking her hand from his lips to the shirt hem around her hips. She wriggled around, lifting the shirt over her head. His palm spread across her bare back, and he dragged his fingernails lightly up and down her spine. She arched into him; their chests pressed together. Lips found their way to his collarbone, his neck, his jaw. Hands snaked their way to his waist and pulled him closer. Her leg wrapped around his hip just as Michael dipped his head and claimed her mouth with his own. His kiss was deliciously slow, teasing almost. Dione pushed her pelvis against him and was pleasantly surprised at the rigidity she found. She ground her hips into him leisurely, running her hands all over his chest and back. He rolled on top of her, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders.

Delirious. Needy. Confused. Desperate.

While he scattered kisses down her neck, her mind wandered, and she fought the panic that trembled in her chest. This wasn’t her. She didn’t do this. She didn’t fall asleep generally, and she especially didn’t sleep with the people she had sex with. She was betraying her pattern and the realization shocked her. Even on their first night together, she didn’t sleep. She tossed and turned for hours before his alarm went off. When it did, she kissed him good morning before he’d even opened his eyes and took off. He’d had much to say about that particular night the next time they saw each other, and Dione had promised she’d try.

But tonight? She struggled to justify her reasons for sleeping, citing too much wine, too much talking, too much work. Her week had been hellish, so when she showed up Friday night already half a bottle gone, she probably could’ve fallen asleep anywhere. But that didn’t explain why Michael of all people, of all the more-than-friends she’d ever had, why him? While she didn’t have her usual string of lovers since she and Michael started sleeping together, she was still an advocate for casual sex. In fact, she’d been drunk and ended up at her nearest partner’s house, looking for solace in the form of sex, at least a dozen times before she had ever met Michael. Back then, she would always leave as soon as she was sober enough to walk straight. What made Michael so special? And why now?! This wasn’t their first night together. This wasn’t even a special occasion.

She prepared another string of questions, but then she felt Michael’s fingers dip beneath the shorts adorning her and she lost her train of thought. He kissed a line down her chest, her stomach. He slithered down her frame, pulling the bottoms off as he went, until she felt his five o’clock shadow scratch the inside of her thighs. He was slow, deliberate in his ministrations. Taking his time. _A heavenly punishment_ , she thought, as his tongue flicked over her slit.

A pained gasp. He swirled his tongue around the aching bundle of nerves, savoring the taste of her. His lips muttered sweet praises against her core. One long finger danced imperceptibly near her entrance, and when it sank inside her, she writhed in delight. Her hips keened at his sudden, but most welcome, inclusion of a second digit, and she tangled one hand in his hair. He pushed into her, curving his fingers against her g-spot and beckoning her to the edge of ecstasy. He built her up, edging her swiftly toward orgasm, before he slowed again. He repeated the process too many times to remember, and each de-escalation left her breathing more haggard and her moans more desperate.

She wanted to beg him, to plead for release, but words failed her. They had found themselves in such a feverishly erotic silence, filled only by the panting and humming of want. She couldn’t risk breaking their precious bubble. The minute she opened her mouth and used actual words would be the minute that everything would come crashing down on her and she’d be forced to confront the reality of what her heart was murmuring to her as he brought her to the edge again. This time, letting her crest, letting her orgasm overtake her as she trembled viciously against his mouth. A tormented sigh seeped off her tongue and into the air, lacing their bubble with a heady buzz. She shirked away from his probing tongue, but eventually conceded to let him coax her back down to earth with gentle strokes. Her breath settled in her chest and sweat beaded on her skin.

Michael, once satisfied with his work, kissed his way back up her body, stopping to wrap his lips around her pebbled nipples. Her hips jerked in response like they always did. He pressed the lightest kiss to the corner of her mouth as he eased his fingers from inside her. Dione tried to ignore the unwelcome emptiness she felt implant itself in his void, but she sensed her lips pull down in a frown anyway. That was until she watched him lift his hand to his mouth, close his eyes, and suck the essence of her from his fingers. _Oh, God, that’s hot_. His sparkling eyes held a heated tenderness that urged Dione to reach for him, thread her fingers through his hair, feel his skin on hers. She cursed herself for the pathetic whimper that escaped her when he trailed his fingers lightly down her chest, but the gorgeous way he bit his lip and smiled down at her…. she was helpless.

Their eyes were glued to one another as Dione rolled her hips out wider and reached between their bodies for his erection. She was glad to find he’d already removed his bottoms as she was certain any prolonged distance between their heaving chests would have left her maddened. A grateful hiss passed over his lips when she pumped him slowly, massaging the throbbing member with a frustrating lightness. He braced his forearms beneath her shoulders, trapping her face between his wrists. He let himself rest his body on top of her, and she could not have been more pleased. She positioned his erection against her needy entrance, and, with knees spread beneath her hips, he gradually pushed himself in. Moving inch by tortuous inch, he filled her until the hilt. Dione glided her hand back up to his face and persuaded him to kiss her. Their mouths danced together as Michael began to move, languidly rocking his hips back and forth. She could still taste herself on his lips.

There was something so heavenly, she realized, about sober sex in the middle of the night. The world was quiet around them. They weren’t desperately seeking release after grinding all night at a club. There wasn’t a deadline waiting for them to return to their daily lives. There wasn’t the impatience of youthful horniness. They were just two people, two bodies, finding each other in the hazy afterglow of waking up. They were unhurried and unbothered.

Dione took this time to relish in the security she felt beneath his hardened body. Sure, he was defined and jagged, his muscles clearly cut from years of refined training. But still, there was a surprising softness to him that she only noticed when their skin was hot and sticky and pressed together on nights like this.

She had never been a person with a definitive type as her partners and friends had taken on every size, shape, color, gender over the years she’d been sexually active. Yet, she’d mostly shied away from traditionally attractive white men. When she was eighteen, she realized her sexuality had been defined by media depictions of beauty, and she didn’t really know what she wanted. She took a year to decide for herself what she liked in partners. And while she did consider herself an equal opportunity lover, she held it deep in the recesses of her mind that while white men had everything in the world, they could never have her. She prided herself on her ability to entrance and beguile most white men, to seduce them, to leave them hot and bothered by her very being. She got off knowing that while they were bewitched by her, she’d never let them close enough to taste.

And then came Michael.

Now, as she felt the guiltless swell of ecstasy warm her skin and raise her pulse, she wondered if she’d been misguided for those seven years. If sex with J. Crew models or The Bachelor felt like this, what had she been missing out on for all this time? She ran her hand over his shoulder and down his back, noting the way his muscles flexed with the rhythm of his stroke. There was no denying it. He felt good on her, in her. A fact she was continuously surprised by, no matter how many times they’d been entwined like this. Dione dragged her nails along his spine, curled her ankles around his hips, rolled her waist until she was angled just so. All the while, Michael held his forehead against hers, taking her lips between his teeth and inhaling the fullness of her moans. The continued push and pull of their connected bodies, combined with the sexual symphony of their breathing, was driving Dione closer to orgasm than she was prepared to admit.

Michael shifted his weight, slipping one hand beneath her head. The other he tracked down the length of her torso. His gentle, airy touch brought a pleasant contrast to the heft of his weight on top of her and the unbelievable girth between her thighs. As his penis pushed along that magic spot inside her, her breath took on a tone of desperation. The buildup was slow, intense. Hot. She felt her eyes flutter shut and her body begin to tense with anticipation.

As his hand moved back up her body, Michael surprised her and brought his touch to her neck. Without warning he wrapped his fingers delicately around her throat and squeezed. Aroused and panicked, Dione gasped. This was new. She opened her eyes to see his lips turned in a devilish smirk. He held her gaze for a long moment, one arm braced beneath her head and the other pressed to her chest. He squeezed again, and Dione let her eyes fall closed. “Ah, ah—” he whispered against her mouth, relaxing his grip slightly until she looked up at him. He nudged her nose with his and let his lips brush over hers as he muttered, “I want to watch you come.” Curling his fingers into her neck, he smiled down at her and squeezed.

Like he had thrown gasoline on a bonfire, their eyes locked together, she exploded around him. The rush that overpowered her was so all consuming, Dione could have sworn she levitated. Her body writhed and spasmed autonomously, twitching beneath him. Her heated sighs seemed foreign to her ears. Her eyes were open, but her vision was black. A moment of panic as she considered the very real possibility that she was losing consciousness. Michael released her throat, and blood flooded to her brain. Slowly, her vision and hearing returned, and she was able to recognize Michael’s words in her ear. His breath was hot and wet against her neck as he muttered his admiration. “You are so beautiful.”

Dione felt the tremors continue to rack through her as his thrusts sped up. His throaty groans above her could have pushed her over the edge again, but then his hand traveled down to the apex of her thighs. He swiped gently over the delicate bundle of nerves, where the throbs of her orgasm echoed. He caressed, teased. In her ear again, clear as day, he whispered, “Again.”

And on command, another wave of ecstasy catapulted her off a cliff, into the sea, and deep into the gaping maw of an existential orgasm. Her body was sinking, falling into an abyss that enveloped her. She was in some catastrophic paradise. Goosebumps peppered her skin, while sweat trickled down her chest and on the back of her neck. This was different, she decided, than any other sexual experience she’d had. Never before had she been able to cum back to back, even by the power of her own hands. This was new and raw and deliciously addicting.

Her thoughts were muddled, but one idea bounced in her mind. _This wasn’t just sex. They weren’t just fucking. This was what people wrote songs about. This was making love_. It rattled her to even think it, but her body seemed soothed by the idea. As the words tumbled around in her head, she felt her muscles relax and succumb to the delirium that followed a healthy romp in the sheets.  
Michael, as if he could sense her loosen up, looked into her eyes with concern. She smiled at him, a sleepy, tender grin, before wrapping her hands around his neck and bringing her lips to his. A confidence took root in her belly, and as she pulled back slightly, she muttered the first words she’d said since she awoke: “I want you.”

Frantic excitement smeared across his face. He kissed her deeply, tangling their tongues together and wrapping his arms around her frame. He tucked his nose into her neck. “Say it again.”

Dione’s throat tightened, and her tongue was suddenly dry. She whispered airily, “I want you, Michael. Please.”

“Oh, my God, you’re perfect,” Michael’s breath came out in short bursts, his chest vibrated against hers with every groan that passed his lips. She looped her arms around him. Covering her face with one hand she was surprised to find tears on her cheeks. They leaked from her slowly, one by one, and she couldn’t stop. Even as his moans got louder and his penis throbbed inside her, she cried.

A deep, throaty growl spilled into the air as he came inside her, coating her walls from within. On any other night, she would have loved the freedom he felt to spend himself inside her, knowing that it was perfectly safe to do so. She relished in the fact that with any other woman he’d have to wear protection, but not with her. The two of them could experience the throes of passion uninhibited. On any other night, she would have felt the warmth of his seed spreading in her defunct womb, and she would have been content with that.

This night was different. This night she felt confused and angry. She imagined the remnants of him slipping and sliding inside her, searching for that elusive egg to latch onto, but finding themselves purposeless in their hunt. On this night she felt the barrenness in her belly haunt her, instead of relieve her. In a brief moment of clarity, she’d wished for something she’d never thought of before: pregnancy.

And that scared her to death.

Michael kissed her lightly, his thrusts slowing until he stilled. She could still feel his member pulsing as he pulled out of her with a huff. He rolled onto his side, pulled her to him by her waist. He nuzzled into her hair and pressed his lips to her ear. She heard the smile in his voice when he whispered, “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you, too.” Dione tried to stifle the crack in her voice but was unsuccessful. Michael popped his head up and stared at her, wiping her matted curls from her face.

“Wait, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Did I hurt—”

She rolled to the edge of the bed. “No, no. I just need a second to think.”

“Dione, hey. Look at me.” His hand caressed her back gently, and she shivered away from his touch. She stood up suddenly, picking up her discarded clothing from the ground.

She finally turned to look at him, feeling his essence trickle down her thigh. A sniffle before she said, “I have to go,” and then she left.

Michael was seemingly dumbfounded for a second, but he jumped into action soon enough. He wrapped a sheet around his waist and caught Dione changing into her clothes in the living room. “Di, come on. Come back to bed. I won’t prod anymore, but please don’t go. We can go back to sleep and talk in the morning.” He reached for her trembling hands, but she stepped away from him.

Dione shook her head. “I have to go. I have to water my plants, and I was supposed to be dog sitting for someone else, and I—”

He held his hands up as a frustrated sign of surrender. “It's the middle of the night! Dione, don’t lie to me, okay? Don’t do that. We don’t have to talk about it. Just… Let me take you home. It’s dark and cold. All the creeps are out in the park this late. Give me 2 minutes to put pants on, and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

Slowly, she nodded. Her cheeks were still wet. Her hair was still matted, but she nodded, if only to get him to stop talking. “Okay,” she muttered softly.

“Okay. Give me two minutes, yeah? Stay right there.” He backed away, turning to jog back to his room. As soon as his eyes left her, she took off out the front door and tore down the staircase.

By the time she got to the first floor, she had managed to tame her hair and fan out that sex smell that lingered on her body. She greeted the doorman cordially, who promptly informed her that it was much too cold to go out dressed like that. She nodded, “I know, I know. I’ll be quick.”

“I can get you a cab, if you’d like.”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll just run. Keeps me warm.”

And like that, she raced into the night, ignoring the pain in her ankles from improper footwear. As she ran, she cried. It was dark, sure, but she was so familiar with the path from Michael’s house to hers, her tear-blurred vision was no obstacle at all. She ran the whole way to her apartment, challenging herself to take the stairs of her walk-up two at a time. That was it. Make a game of it. She closed the door of her apartment, and instead of feeling relief at having made it home safely, she felt the overwhelming weight of her anxiety begin to suffocate her.

So she paced. She tried to map out a new pole routine in her head, tried to think of a new way to imagine the film clip she was working on. Music. Yes. She needed music. She needed distraction. Sound. Anything that was loud enough to drown out her own thoughts. She went in search of her phone and headphones and came to the frustrating realization that both items were still at Michael’s apartment. Dione slid to the ground, curled herself into a shuddering ball, and sobbed.


	13. An Ultimatum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank ya'll for being patient with me!  
> you ever re-read something so often that it starts to look like complete mush?  
> that's me & chapters 1-11.  
> truth be told i've been sitting on this story for over a year and every time i open up my Word document to add to it, i read it from the beginning and it just goes downhill from there. bah.  
>  anyway - i love feedback, so please comment & let me know how to be better or if there are things you'd like to see different.
> 
> kthanksloveyoubye  
> xoxo  
> ForbiddenPisces

Email. He had to contact her by _email_ after she left her phone at his apartment. He walked over to her building with the dogs the morning after she ran away, but as soon as he got there, he realized he didn’t know which number to buzz. And even if he did, she wouldn’t be able to hear it because she didn’t have her phone. He had tried in vain to buzz a couple of the other apartments, but none of them let him in. Eventually he resorted to sending her a DM through Instagram, but after over five hours of waiting, he assumed she wouldn’t be using her computer to check the social media platform. He was even tempted to call Maya to come get the phone, but he was determined to talk to her. When he thought all hope was lost, he found her contact information on the NYU website. He left a voice message on her office line and sent her an email.

_Dione,_

_I hope you’re well. I wasn’t sure the best way to reach you, but I wanted you to know that I have your phone. Stop by anytime. I will be home tomorrow. I’d love to see you._

_Michael_

He rewrote the same two lines over and over, but there was no good way to communicate what was racing through his head. She left him (again), but this time she’d been crying. He worried that maybe he pushed her too far when he choked her, but that was something she mentioned wanting to try. He wasn’t super experienced in the technique, but he’d tried it on other women before and they seemed to enjoy it. Or maybe it was pushing her to cum again? Maybe that was it. Maybe her body was too tired and he’d gone and fucked it up.

The worry plagued him, but that wasn’t the only emotion consuming his every waking moment. He was livid. She promised him she wouldn’t lie to him or leave him in the middle of the night. She agreed to communicate what she wanted and what she didn’t. And in the span of one evening, she pissed on everything they had talked about. While he anxiously waited for her response, the maybes and ifs circled around and around as if on repeat.

Several hours later, he heard the undeniable _POP!_ from his phone. With his heart lodged in his throat, he checked the reply.

_Michael,_

_I trust it in your company. I will grab it when I come walk the dogs next week. You can just leave it on the kitchen counter. I won’t disturb you on your day off._

_~Dione_

_Dione,_

_I’d be happy to deliver it to you anytime. Name the time and place. I’d hate for you to go all weekend without your phone._

_Michael,_

_That’s kind of you, but I assure you I’ll be fine. If it gets to be a hassle or if the notifications start to annoy you, please feel free to turn it off._

_~Dione_

_Are we really doing this over email right now? I’ll come to you, D. You don’t even have to leave your apartment. I’ll stop by this afternoon around 4._

_I’ll pick it up from your house tomorrow. Please don’t come over._

Tomorrow rapidly became today, and Michael felt the same nervous energy tangle inside him as if it were the first time she had come over. The only difference was this time he felt a flush of anger tied in. He tried his best to maintain the boundaries Dione set for their casual relationship. He thought he’d conceded a lot of his own personal preferences for her sake. His only asks of her were honesty and openness, and when she ran out on him that night, she’d lied and shut herself off. Mike was tired, irritated even, by her immaturity.

What began between them months ago had morphed into something bigger than casually hooking up. The sex was incredible, and he loved the exploratory elements of their time in bed. But their relationship had started to change ever so slightly. They were meeting for happy hour, followed by tangling in his sheets. They had attended each other’s office Friendsgivings. Michael went to a screening of Dione’s students’ films, and she had driven him to the airport in the middle of rush hour. She divulged all about her insomnia and her love of film, while he explained in dramatic detail what had happened in his last relationship. Often their time together ended in orgasms for either or both of them, and Mike wasn’t complaining. They were becoming closer friends and better lovers to one another, and the hope he had in his chest for something more than casual was becoming even more painful to squash with every time he heard her sigh his name or feel her tremble against him.

He wanted her in every way she didn’t want him, and now that he’d had a taste…the thought of being starved of her affection was debilitating, but he had to maintain an ounce of dignity. She couldn’t just lie to him, brush him off like he was merely irritating one night, and then waltz back in as if everything was fine. Things weren’t fine.

Three quick knocks.

Mike stood at the island, his back to the door. He adjusted his stance, tried to loosen his suddenly rigid muscles, and called out, “It’s open.” He ran through what he wanted to say to her, how he wanted to approach the subject. He wanted her to come to him. To swish around the island, park herself in front of him, and let the explanation float over her lips. He would be strong. Stoic. He would listen thoughtfully and then he would forgive her and then they would end up as a sweaty heap against the kitchen counter.

The door opened slowly before closing. The clack of heels should have been his first clue, but he didn’t notice. What he did notice was Bertie and Bear flying off their beds and rushing to the door, teeth bared and growling. Mike flipped around, already calling the dogs off. “Hey—go lay down.” The dogs backed away but eyed the visitor with great concern. Mike turned to the door to see blonde hair, blue eyes, and red lips. _Oh, shit._

“I didn’t know you had dogs!” Holly Ivanbrooke clicked over to him and embraced him warmly. She smelled exactly like she did when they were interns together years ago. Mike kicked himself for forgetting. Holly messaged him on Instagram, explaining she’d be in the city for a conference and wanted to grab dinner. At the time, things with Dione were still a bit fresh, and he wasn’t clear on the limits of their relationship. He’d asked her what he should say, and D was quick to encourage him to have a meal with his former flame.

“I’m not going to hold you back, Michael,” she’d said. “We aren’t in a committed relationship. It’s just sex.”

He pulled it together fast enough, Holly didn’t even notice his faze. “Holly, it’s so good to see you. I forgot to tell you about the dogs. They’re harmless, truly. All bark, no bite.” He released her from his arms and tried to ignore the unwelcome heaviness in his limbs.

Holly looked him up and down and assessed his appearance. “Now, Mike, any girl is a sucker for a guy in grey sweatpants, but I think you might want to put on some different clothes for dinner.”

Eying over himself, he nodded. “Right, yes—what time were our reservations again?”

“We’ve got 15 minutes.”

“Give me five, okay? You can make yourself at home. There are glasses in the cupboard. Beer in the fridge. Snacks in the pantry. You know where everything is. I’ll be right back!” Mike took off to his bedroom, tearing through his closet wildly. He tried to conceive of a universe where he had all his shit together and this night never slipped his mind. He pulled a pair of dark jeans over his briefs, wiped deodorant under his armpits, and was buttoning his shirt when he heard Holly yell for him.

He nabbed a pair of socks from the floor and shuffled to the kitchen. “Sorry, Holly, I’m going—Dione.” It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. She wore a tight smile and crouched to the dogs who were greedily lapping at her face. When she saw him, her hazel eyes turned fiery, but her mask of calm was clear. She stood up, patted both dogs on the head, and snapped her fingers. Like the wildly obedient canines they were under her guise, they trotted happily back to their beds.

“Good evening, Michael,” her voice held none of the warmth or humor he had become accustomed to.

Mike stepped up closer, gesturing to the white woman who stood in his kitchen helping herself to a glass of wine. “Dione, hey, this is Holly Ivanbrook. We were interns together way back in the day.”

Dione nodded pleasantly and approached with her hand extended. “Holly, it’s so nice to meet you.”

Holly shook her hand, raising a curious eyebrow. “You, too, Dione, was it? How do you know Mike?”

Dione answered quickly, “I walk Bertie and Bear here whenever Michael is busy.”

An airy laugh fell from Holly’s throat. “That explains why you have such a way with them. They almost attacked me when I walked in.”

“They wouldn’t hurt a fly. All bark, no bite. Apologies for interrupting your time. I just came by to grab my phone. I left it here by accident after our walk this morning.” How she could lie so easily astounded him. She eyed him intently. “I thought I left it on the counter, but perhaps I was mistaken. Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, yeah, it was dying so I plugged it into the charger in my room.” Mike gestured for the hallway, walking away before his blush gave away his façade. “Dione, while you’re here, I do have….” he trailed off, knowing that she would follow him back to his room to be polite. He waited for her to step over the threshold before he closed the door behind her. Her arms were braced firmly across her chest, and she smelled like coffee. “Dione, listen. This isn’t what it looks like.”

She raised her eyes, a hint of curiosity in her smirk. “And what does it look like?”

“I don’t know, but whatever you’re thinking it is, it isn’t.”

“Pretty bold of you to suggest you know what I’m thinking.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her tone, but when he sought her eyes, he found no mirth. She walked deeper into his room searching for her phone. She flipped the covers back on her side of the bed….oh, no. _Her side._ She refused to meet his eyes, so he stood at the door with his hands in his pockets.

He shrugged, “I wanted to talk to you about the other night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Come on, D. You left here crying. There’s obviously—”

“I just came to pick up my stuff, Michael. That’s it.”

“But what about—”

“We’re not doing this,” she stood up quickly, and her glare could have turned him to ice.

“Not doing what?” he raised his arms in exasperation, trying mightily to keep his voice down. He truly was on his last nerve. “Every time I bring up something that we _should_ talk about, you always shut me down. Help me understand, please. Did I hurt you or something? I read about the right way to choke someone when you mentioned it the first time, and I was pretty rusty, but I thought you might like it.”

“Jesus, Michael, where the hell is my stuff?” she dropped to her knees and started scanning under his bed. He heard a muttered ‘finally,’ when she nabbed her phone and headphones. She clambered to her feet, and Mike blocked her exit. “Let me out. Don’t you have a date to go on?”

“First off, it’s not a date. Secondly, tell me what the fuck happened the other night, or I’ll….” he cut himself off when he saw the panic in her eyes. The panic and absolute fury. He swallowed tightly.

She squared up to him, half a foot shorter, and glared. Her voice was eerily calm, but the hint of a growl was not to be missed. “Or you’ll _what?_ Fire me?”

“No, no! But I’ll…stop doing whatever _this_ is. We’ll be done, and I’ll just be the guy who pays you to take care of his dogs.” Every word he said felt like a lie, but he’d backed himself into a corner and there was no way of retracting it. On the one hand, he meant every fucking word. He deserved better than to be ignored and abandoned. But on the other hand, the hand that held his heart and his penis, he wanted nothing more than to sink to his knees before her, grovel for her forgiveness, beg her for another chance.

A sardonic snort fell from her mouth. “If we’ve resorted to ultimatums, then perhaps being friends wasn’t good for either of us. Now, excuse me.” She brushed past him quickly, and he pretended that he didn’t feel a stabbing pain in his chest.

“Dione, wait—” but he was too late. She was waving a genteel hand to Holly as he made his way back to the kitchen. Her eyes shot through him, scowling as she closed the door. A defeated sigh escaped his mouth.

Holly clicked her tongue. “Um…you okay?”

_No, I’m not fucking okay, Holly? Can’t you see I’m fucking devastated? I just lost one of the best things to happen to me and you want to ask if I’m okay?_ But he didn’t say that. He cleared his throat, finished buttoning his shirt, and nodded into his chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just felt bad about something from earlier…don’t even worry about it. Let’s eat.”

* * * * *

Throughout dinner Mike couldn’t be bothered to keep track of the conversation. Guilt was weighing him down in a way that left his words behind him. They were tucked away in a corner booth at his favorite gin bar uptown. The air was hazy, and the restaurant was a puddle of noise. He was able to finesse his way through the meal, laughing in the right spots and prodding with additional questions. He kept staring at Holly’s mouth, as she drank glass after glass of wine. They laughed, flirted, touched. Whiskey was his companion for much of the night. One drink, two, three. Eventually his attention turned to the woman across from him. He eyed her salaciously, feeling his failure with Dione seeping from his limbs. He needed something, or someone, to take his mind off his…dogwalker. Moments passed as he stared at her through hooded eyes.

Holly leaned forward, and Mike suddenly noticed her cleavage. His mouth watered as she spoke. “Do you…want to get out of here?” There was a hand on his thigh, inching its way upward. This was how it worked with Holly. She’d come to town, they would get dinner, sometimes followed by a night of hearty fucking. Other times, they would talk until sunrise. Then she’d leave the next day and that was that. Mike had grown used to her casual reappearances in his life and treated their time together like a regular check-up. The sex was fun, but it was nothing compared to the explosive experience of burying himself deep between Dione’s thighs.

Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was that Dione had left him. Perhaps it was his own strange masochism. But as Holly’s hand moved over the space between his thighs, he was furious that nothing was happening. When it came to Holly, he never had a problem getting an erection, but tonight was obviously different.

Mike reached for her, slipping his hand around her neck. She grinned slyly. Noses brushed, before he caught her lips with his and kissed her hungrily. He went for it, hoping that having their tongues tangled together would push his penis to attention. This was a desperate attempt to clear _her_ from his mind, but as he rooted his fingers in her hair, he couldn’t help noticing that Holly’s hair was straight and thin, and her lips were small, and she smelled toxically like flowers. _This won’t do._ The thought of pressing his lips to her neck almost made him gag, and he ruefully sank away from her. “Come on!” he grumbled, gesturing to his flaccid penis still tucked into his pants.

Taking a sip of her wine, Holly shrugged, “It’s no big deal, Mike.”

“Yes, it is!”

She patted his knee and slid back against the booth, plucking a piece of bread from the basket between them and tearing it apart. Through careful bites and with slow consideration, she rolled her eyes, “You haven’t been listening to a word I said all night. Whatever happened between you and Diane, you—”  
“Dione,” he corrected immediately, feeling the blush run to his face.

A smirk lit her cheeks. “Yes, whatever happened between you and _Dione_ has been distracting you since I opened your apartment door.”

“That’s not true.”

“Mike, I told you about my grandmother passing, and you asked if I had fun at the funeral. You forget that I saw you at your nerdiest, grossest, early-20s-no-sleep-exsistential-crises-est. You can’t fool me. What’s going on? You want to talk about it?’

“Nothing is going on! I’m fine!”

She glanced pointedly at his groin. “Tell that to your dick.”

As if he could be any paler, the blood seeped from his cheeks in humiliation. The brown liquor soothed his throat as he sipped nervously.

Holly wiped her hands on her napkin before folding it and placing it across her empty plate. She leaned forward again, this time with empathy and curiosity on her features, rather than tipsy lust. “Listen, Mike, I’m not going to push you. You’re a grown man. You can tell me whatever you want. But based on your face right now, you look piss drunk and confused. Let me at least walk you home, okay? And if you decide to share whatever’s bothering you, I’m all ears. No judgement.” She gave him an encouraging smile.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mike let out an aggravated sigh. “Why are you being so nice to me? This is the first time I’ve seen you since…. it’s been over a year, and I’ve been a douchebag all night. I’m sorry, Holly, really.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m doing this because it looks like you need a friend, and I’d be honored to be your friend.”

Mike rolled his eyes, “I hate that word. ‘Friend.’ It doesn’t mean anything.”

She laughed, hearty and full, and swung her legs out of the booth. Her hand extended, she reached for his arm. “Come on, you’re being a buzzkill. Let’s get you home, and you can tell me all about it.”

And he did. Mike drunkenly spilled his guts to the gorgeous blonde woman who he’d accompanied at dinner. He told her all about Dione and their arrangement and how he felt and what he wanted. He touched on Dione’s insomnia, explained how she’d slept over and run away, described the ultimatum that made her leave. He unraveled the last six months at her heeled feet, hoping she’d have an answer that would set him on a path to feeling better. But what she gave him was a casual shrug. “It sounds like you’re in love with someone who doesn’t want to be loved.”

“No, no. Di and I are just having sex.”

“Yeah, and it sounds like you have feelings for her that extend beyond the bedroom.”

“I mean, I guess. I care about her as my friend and the dogs—”

“It’s deeper than that, and you know it. Little Mike didn’t even open his eyes for me when I had my hand wrapped around him. You think the way you feel about Lucas or Liam has ever prevented you from getting an erection? You’re in love with someone, and that’s okay.”

A lump formed in his throat suddenly. “No, Holly, it’s not okay.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he could feel his heart in his mouth and tried to keep his composure.

“Because why, Mike? Why is it not okay to love someone?”

He lifted his eyes slowly, his vision blurred from whiskey and emotion. “Because she doesn’t love me back.”


	14. Learn to Lie

_Ding!_

Coffee time. Standing at the kitchen counter, Dione reached blindly for the carafe and poured herself a tall cup of coffee. Her eyes were glued to the computer screen in front of her. Somewhere a timer went off. She took a sip from the mug and barely flinched at the scorching temperature. A jarring song broke her concentration. She checked her phone to see Maya’s name flashing through on the caller ID for the 4th time. Dione didn’t hesitate before hitting decline and turning her phone to airplane mode. “Not today,” she muttered to herself, taking a long draw on her coffee.

A series of loud, aggressive knocks echoed through Dione’s surprisingly quiet apartment. It jostled her enough that she almost spilled hot coffee all over her laptop. Even she was impressed by her own reflexes. “Who is it?” she yelled, crossing for the door.

“Dione, open the door,” Maya sounded less than cheery, so it was with a rueful grin Dione unlocked the deadbolt and turned the doorknob. “You don’t answer your phone, anymore?” she scolded as she flung into the apartment.

Sarcasm dripped in Dione’s words. “Maya, how lovely to see you. Please come in. Would you like some coffee?”

Maya’s angular features were extra sharp in the afternoon light—er, evening? morning? what time was it? The way she held her arms across her chest didn’t soften her rigidity. “I tried calling you a million times.”

Pulling her hair into a bun, Dione sighed. “I was busy.”

“Too busy to answer the fucking phone?”

“Yo, Maya, chill. Don’t come at me like that.” Dione shuffled by her friend and returned to her laptop. She went about her business as if Maya weren’t there at all, which could only have further enraged the guest.

In a surprising twist, Maya closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slipped into one of the mismatched chairs in the living room. “Mike texted me today, wanted to know if I’d seen or heard from you this week.”

“Mhmm,” Di hummed. “What’d you tell him?”

“The truth. That I’d seen you for at least fifteen minutes over the course of the week. I told him you were picking up extra classes. He said he hadn’t spoken to you in days. He tried calling and texting you a bunch, but you never responded or answered his call.”

“Hm, how odd.”

Silence filled the apartment once again, save for the clicking of a keyboard and the occasional sigh of disdain from Maya. “You want to tell me what happened?” she finally asked.

“Nothing happened. I’ve been busy.” _He went on a date._

“Learn to lie better.”

“I’m not lying!” Dione spat, finally flicking her eyes up to meet Maya’s across the room. _With that hot blonde doctor!_

Maya shrugged, took a seat at the island beside Dione and her computer. “Okay, fine. Then why don’t you call him back?”

“I have things to do, Maya. I was under the impression he didn’t need me until tomorrow, so I’ve been working at my other _two jobs_ and helping out at the rescue uptown. Did he tell you something different?”

“No, no, he said he wasn’t worried about the dogs.”

“Okay, so what’s the concern?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Maya reached for Dione’s phone and started scrolling through it. “Here. I’ll even dial his number for you.”

Dione lashed out before Maya could complete the call. “Jesus, Maya, stop. Okay? Just stop. Now, I have a shoot to get to. I’m running sound for a freshman in…” she checked her watch. “Shit, I was supposed to leave 5 minutes ago. Look, Maya, I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Lock up when you leave. I’ll see you at the studio.”

Maya grabbed her elbow before she could walk away and locked eyes with the brown-skinned girl beside her. “Di, I’m sorry. Just hold on for one second, okay? You look—”

“Don’t even.”

“Have you slept at all? Eaten anything?”

Dione suddenly burst out laughing. “I’m fine, Maya.” And then she walked on. Closed her laptop, grabbed her bag, slipped on her shoes. “You coming?” she asked, popping open the door.

Maya rose from her seat and trudged over. She stopped short, “Dione, promise me you’re taking care of yourself.”

“I promise, babe. Don’t even worry,” Dione grinned happily before escorting Maya out of her apartment building.

*****

The office was empty and dark, save for Dione, two of her monitors, and her desk lamp. On a legal pad before her, she scribbled through a check list and schedule. Her hours were filled up with essential tasks. Or at least… tasks she considered essential. From 5:30 in the morning to the middle of the night, her schedule was stacked.

Which is exactly why she sat in her office at 4am, working on a freelance gig. Color grading, indisputably one of the most time-consuming aspects of film and photography. But she was good at it, and since she wasn’t spending time with Michael anymore, she wanted—no, needed—to keep herself busy doing _something_. So, she’d offered her expert services to other departments throughout the university. Picking up any and all odd jobs just to keep her hands and her mind occupied. Any moments of silence resulted in her anxiety squeezing the air out of her lungs. For her wellbeing, for her sanity, she couldn’t think about Dr. Mike. She couldn’t think about blue eyes, smirked thin lips, and bodies carved from limestone.

When she came over that morning, asking her about how things were with Michael….Maya had no idea what she’d broken. Dione had done such a good job over the last week distracting herself enough to forget that he’d texted, called, DMed, emailed, etc. Sure, she hadn’t eaten or slept since the night she fled from his apartment, but at least the memory of his eyes was fading.

_He went on a date with a thin, white woman who treated herself to the wine I brought over some night awhile ago, and she had the audacity to look at me like I was the odd one out?_

_No. No. Stop it. It wasn't serious. We weren't in a committed relationship. I told him to go on the date. I encouraged it. So I don't deserve to be mad. I ran out on him. It's my fault. He went on a date with someone else because I'm too fucked up. Totally makes sense. She can probably give him children. You can't. He deserves her._

She had to be clear. She wasn’t mad at Michael. Not at all. She just needed distance. Needed time away from that disappointment she felt in her heart when she remembered that she could never have children of her own. That night still haunted her and she held the visceral recollection of absence in her belly. Too pained to eat.

Sleep, on the other hand, was always a wicked mistress, subjecting Dione to her tortures of restlessness. Dione’s grandfather would say, “You can sleep when you’re dead.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Dione figured if Sleep wanted to claim her, then Death would, too. She couldn’t give them the chance to catch up to her. She must keep moving.

Scratching off item after item, Dione made it to the end of her list. The Final Task: take a shower. She stretched her arms above her head, turned out the lights, shut down her computer and went home. Her apartment was unnaturally tidy. On a conference call earlier that afternoon, she’d busied herself with cleaning while some dean said something about someone. She stripped her clothes off and turned the shower on. As she stood under the hot water, her vision morphed into gray splotches and a violent ringing punctuated her eardrums. Before she could collapse, she flipped the hot water off and trembled under a stream of ice. “Better,” she said aloud to her empty home. She dressed quickly, braided her wet curls into a tight bun at the top of her head.

Two full cups of coffee and eight emails later, she took off for her first jog of the day. She looped the park once in the early gray light of the December morning. Snow was packed in dirty, ugly drifts abutting the medians on the roads. It was mostly quiet, as other New Yorkers had the good sense to stay indoors in the winter when it was less than 40 degrees out. Dione did not have such fortune to be blessed with good sense. An alarm buzzed against her arm, alerting her to change activities.

Now that she’d had her warmup lap, she’d be better able to keep up with the dogs when she took them out. She zagged across the park and up the front steps of Michael’s apartment building. The doorman Bill recognized her immediately and opened the door with a pleasant grin. “Dione, my dear! I haven’t seen you in several days. How are you, love?” his Irish accent was barely there, but the hint of it made Dione feel swaddled in a warmth.

“I’m doing just fine. How are you? Are the girls well?”

Bill’s twin daughters were his proudest creations: Elizabeth and Isabella, seventh graders with flaming red hair and deep green eyes, a smattering of freckles across their noses.

“You know, Izzy’s decided to be on the cheer squad.”

“Oh really? And what about Lizzy?”

“She’s joined up with the drama club.”

“An actress and a cheerleader! What fun you’re having!” Dione took off for the staircase, urging her muscles to stay warm and figuring it would take longer than using the elevator. She had to delay the inevitable as best she could. Knowing it would pain her to step foot into his world once again.

Breathing became a desperate challenge as she approached his door. A small attack struck her when she wasn’t sure whether to knock or simply walk in. “Act as if you’d never slept together,” she muttered to herself. A few deep breaths before she tapped her knuckles against the door while pushing it open simultaneously.

“Knock, knock!” she called out. The scrape of nails on hardwood soothed her almost immediately, but the sight of Bear’s giant fluff racing toward her made her smile, truly smile, for the first time in days. She crouched down and greeted both dogs as they sat at her feet.

“Dione,” Michael’s voice sent shivers down her spine. He sounded groggy, perhaps sick, but he cleared his throat and the fullness of his timbre returned. “You’re early.”

She didn’t dare meet his eyes, instead focusing on the dogs in front of her. “Maya said you were asking about me.”

“I was worried,” he said, taking a tentative step forward.

“About me?” Dione laughed and rose to face him. His shirt was unbuttoned and his hair was tousled and he smelled like soap and toothpaste. A warmth spread between her legs, but she ignored it.

“Yeah, about you. Are you…okay?”

“I’m fine. Are you okay?” she crossed her arms to hold herself together. All she wanted was to feel his skin on hers, to hold him, but she couldn’t. No. This was the man who paid her to walk his dogs and nothing more.

“Um…no, actually, I uh…have to—”

Another alarm sounded from Dione’s phone. Time to change activities. “Hey, I’ve got a pretty busy day ahead. Is it alright if I take them out now?” She didn’t bother to wait for his response, instead flitting to the dogs’ playroom in search of their snow booties. Michael followed behind her. The sound of his bare feet padding behind her made her anxiety crawl up her throat and latch onto her tongue, but she couldn’t pay him any mind. She pulled the booties out of a drawer and spun around. He was there, a few inches away from her. His scent overwhelmed her, and the sight of his skin peeking out from his shirt drove her mind to indecent places.

“Look at me, Dione, please. I’m begging you.”

A forced smile lit her face, and she flicked her eyes up. “Yes?”

“I just…” he gazed at her for a long moment. She held her breath and focused her energy on not coming undone. Before she could think, Michael leaned forward and wrapped a hand around her neck. She gasped as his mouth came down on hers, but she brought a hand to his chest and shoved him away and it broke her heart. She didn’t kiss him back, though she desperately wanted to. _I can’t put him through that. He wants to be a father. This is better. For both of us._

“Don’t do that.” The sound of her voice was unnatural, guttural.

His face was twisted, and his hands went to his hips. “Dione, I don’t know what to do.”

“You are going to finished getting dressed. I am going to take the dogs for a run around the park because that is what you pay me to do. That’s it. That’s all we are.” Michael stared at her with frustration and doubt as she breezed past him. She kneeled to the ground and worked the booties onto eight paws. She had been in his house for too long. It was time to go. Her anxiety was ballooning in her throat. Was she breathing? She laced their harnesses together and attached them to the brace around her waist.

“I can’t just leave this in the air, Di. We…I can’t do that. I need you—”

“No, no. Stop it. You don’t need—” Dione shot to her feet and immediately regretted it. Her vision started to blur again and her knees felt weak and then suddenly her whole body was very, very heavy and somewhere far away there was a thud, a yip, and a shout and then stillness.

There was a rhythmic whooshing behind her eyelids. For a second, she was back in Martinique. She could hear her grandmother calling to her. Her skin was hot. She must have been on the boat because water splashed her cheeks. Maybe she was sunburned. Her eyes were on fire. A steel drum was somewhere, pulsing a beat. She wanted to dance but her limbs were tired. Gran was singing or yelling, out there. Off in the waves, Dione could finally breathe. Like the rise and fall of the sea matched her heartbeat. Sweat danced on the back of her neck. Her linen shorts clung to her thighs. This was good. She could see Gran waving her tea towel on the beach. It was time to come in for lunch. As she moved toward shore, the image began to shift and storm clouds covered the house.

“Dione!”

Why was Gran’s accent different?

“Come on, Di.”

And her voice was so deep.

“Can you open your eyes? Can you hear me?”

That’s not Gran.

Dione’s eyes fluttered open to see steel blue blinking back at her. Her lungs swelled, and her head started to throb. Michael stared at her with a hand on her forehead. “Dione, look at me. Can you focus? Look me in the eyes.”

A moment passed and everything came back to her. Bear slobbered nearby. Bertie whined at her feet. She met Michael’s eyes and felt an unpleasant tug in her belly. A reminder. Ignoring the heartbeat in her sinuses, she sat up and brushed his hand away. “I’m fine.”

“Whoa, easy. You smacked the back of your head pretty hard. Let me see your eyes,” he used his thumb to tilt her chin up.

“I said I’m fine.” She ignored the gray splotches in her vision and willed herself steady as she stood.

“You could have a concussion.”

“I get dizzy sometimes. It’s no big deal.”

“It sounded like a watermelon splattering on concrete.”

“Well that’s vivid.”

He sighed, folding his arms over his chest. Dione ignored the twinge between her legs. “You should see a doctor.”

“Oh, no way! I’m fine! This happens all the time, really. I bend over to tie my shoe. Stand up too fast. Boom, I’m on the ground. It is not my first rodeo.”

“Still, I think you should get checked out.”

She smiled tightly before approaching him, pulling his arms down, and buttoning his shirt. “I think you should go to work. I’m going on a run with the dogs.” Dione hooked the leashes back on to her brace, patted Michael on the chest.

“Dione, I’m serious. Don’t injure yourself just to spite me.”

A laugh floated over her teeth before she could stop it. “I’m not doing anything to spite you, Mike. I’ll see you later.” His shortened name felt slimy on her tongue, but she needed him to let her go. Being in his apartment was draining her fragile reserve. She needed to leave, to feel an icy chill on her face and an ache in her joints. Though, as soon as she said it, she couldn’t ignore the painful shock that struck his face.

She was out the door before he could respond.

Before she’d returned from her run with the dogs, she had to stop twice to vomit. The spoiled remnants of her relationship calling for her morning coffee to reverse its trajectory. If folks thought coffee was bitter going down, just imagine it coming back up. Bear and Bertie were completely worn out when she came back to his apartment.

Even though it was well past his start time, Dione still called out for Michael as she opened the front door. Nothing. Silence. She put fresh water in both dogs’ bowls, removed their booties and returned the winter accoutrement to the playroom. As she opened the cupboard door to scoop food into their bowls, she noticed a plain white envelope with her name on it, written in Michael’s characteristic doctoral scrawl.

_Dear Dione,_

_I don’t know what to do anymore. I wish I’d never made that ultimatum, but at the same time, what you said was right. Being friends wasn’t good for either of us. I think I got attached and lost myself in the experience. I tried the casual route, and I couldn’t do it. At least, not in a way that worked for both of us._

_Finding a new normal will be a challenge. It will be awkward and weird, and on the one hand, I think I should let you go. Set you free to find other opportunities. But the selfish part of me knows that my dogs haven’t responded to anyone so readily and obediently. They love you. Also, I am nervous to try to find a new person right before the holidays, especially since you already agreed to watch them while I’m out of town for Christmas._

_But if you think hanging out with Bertie and Bear is no longer an option for you, I totally understand, and I’ll write rave reviews for you for the next client you pull._

_Di, I don’t know what I did to make you run from me that night. Whatever it was, I’m so sorry. If you do want to talk about it at some point, I’m all ears, but I won’t push you._

_I won’t chase you any longer._

_Michael_

Dione felt her eyes blur with tears, but she could only nod. She swallowed her pride, shook her head, and pocketed the letter. This was good. Right? Things would go back to how they were before. Mostly. He agreed. Being friends was bad for them. This was good. She gave each dog a little treat and ran back home with nothing in her earbuds. The quiet breaking of her heart provided the only rhythm she could hear.


	15. Coke & Christmas

_“Hey, it’s Dione. I can’t get to the phone right now. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you!”_

“Hey, it’s me…again. It’s almost eleven, and you’re still not here. I haven’t heard from you in a few days, but I thought you were going to be here by now. Maybe I got the dates wrong? I don’t know, but please call me as soon as you can. If you can’t take care of the dogs, let me know so I can take them to a boarding house. God knows if there will be any space left this late. I just…call me back. This is my fourth message, I think? Anyway….bye.” Mike slammed his phone on the kitchen counter beside his plane tickets.

This wasn’t like her. She was usually early, eager even to come stay with the dogs. When he asked what her plans were for the holidays, she had offered to care for them before he could ask. He had genuinely wanted to know what she was going to do, but Dione leapt at the chance to spend more time with them. She was the one to initiate their conversations in the week leading up to his departure. Asking him about his flight, verifying arrival times. She had even suggested they eat breakfast together again, like they had the first time she came over to his apartment. Her way of starting fresh, she said.

But she was almost three hours late, and Mike hadn’t heard a word from her all morning. His suitcase leaned against the couch. White lights, a giant Christmas tree, black and white stockings, and more decorated his apartment. The Christmas spirit was challenging for him to find this year. He didn’t want to admit that it was his own heartbreak that was tainting the season. When Dione pushed him away, it was like she punched straight through his ribcage and bruised his heart. And then when she collapsed, Mike lost all sense. He was a damn doctor, and he froze when her head hit the ground. With anyone else, he was able to keep his cool, but with Dione, it was different. His whole body felt heavy when she didn’t respond to him the first time. The second time he thought he might cry. And by the third time, he tasted copper. When she finally opened her eyes, Mike could have danced. Never had he found her hazel irises so enchanting.

But then she shied away from him. Called him ‘Mike’.

He hated how it sounded coming from her voice, but she made her point. So, he wrote her a letter and tried to convince himself that things would go back to normal eventually. That he could un-love her. Eventually.

Bear nudged the back of his knee and whined. He was anxious, of course he was. Mike had been pacing for most of the morning, packing and repacking his suitcase and calling and recalling Dione. He tugged playfully on his dog’s ears and grinned before picking up his cell phone and dialing Maya’s number.

Desperate times.

She answered after the seventh ring, sounding like hell. “Hello?”

“Maya, hey! I’m so sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you’ve heard from Dione at all? She was supposed to come over this morning for breakfast, and she’s taking care of the dogs while I visit my parents over Christmas, but I haven’t heard from her. Do you know where she is? I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t urgent. I’m supposed to—"

“Wait, what? Who is this?”

“It’s Mike.”

“Oh, oh! Mike, hey—sorry, I just….I’m just waking up. What’s going on?”

“Just waking up? Maya, it’s almost lunch. You doing okay?”

Maya spoke through her yawn, “Yeah, just a long night, you know? Sorry, what were you asking about?”

“Dione—have you heard from her? She’s supposed to be taking care of the dogs over Christmas. I haven’t heard from her since…Monday? You know where she is? I’ve tried calling her.” Bertie and Bear followed him as he took laps around his kitchen island.

It was quiet on the other line. Maya inhaled deeply before whispering, more to herself than to Mike. “Oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Lucas didn’t call you?”

“Was he supposed to?”

“Shit, shit, _shit!_ Mike, I’m so sorry. I thought Lucas would have told you.”

“Told me what?” he fought to hear Maya over the sudden, repetitive thump in his ears. His heart rate had picked up significantly. He could hear slamming and swishing in the background. A few quiet yips from Maya’s dogs. Typing on a computer.

“It’s nothing to worry about. We’ve got it handled.”

“What is it?”

“I thought you already knew. _Shit!_ ”

“Jesus, Maya, what am I supposed to know?”

“About Dione?”

Mike swallowed and felt his nerves begin to fray. “That’s why I’m calling!”

“I’m so sorry, Mike. Lucas was supposed to call you as soon as we got to the hospital last night, but he must have forgotten.”

The floor beneath him rumbled and gave way. There was an incessant ringing in his ears. Surely, he didn’t hear her correctly. He steadied himself against the counter. “What hospital? What are you talking about? Maya, what happened to Dione?” he suddenly felt out of breath.

She was quiet for several beats before she sighed on the other end. She sniffled. “She fell, Mike. She’s at Tisch now.”

His vision went white, and he heard himself say, “I’ll be there in 20 minutes,” before hanging up, grabbing his keys, and blindly navigating to his car.

Time crawled and sprinted at the same time. On the drive over, he got a call from Lucas. Mike couldn’t remember what they talked about. Lucas said something about doing their best. That everything was fine, that Mike need not panic. But it was too late. As he parked in the underground lot, Mike could feel bile swimming upstream and poisoning his mouth. Panic lodged in the lining around his lungs, and breathing was becoming a chore.

The lobby of the hospital was cheerful, all decked out for the holidays. What should have been red and green and blue and gold streamers all seemed gray. Things Mike had come to know as familiar elements of medical practice now felt garish and horrifying. A gurney sat unattended in a corner. Nurses in scrubs ate snacks out of little bags. Even the friendly face of the receptionist felt out of place. There was a constant buzz in his ears, probably from the unyielding fluorescent lights above. A woman in her fifties, wearing the classic white coat, swooshed by him before turning on her heel. Mike heard her speak but her voice traveled through molasses. He closed his eyes and tried to wake up. When he opened them again, the doctor was in front of him with her hand on his forehead.

“I-I’m looking for Dione,” he stuttered.

“Okay, what’s Dione’s last name?” the doctor ushered him to the receptionist.

“She fell.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, honey. How do you spell her name?”

“She…she was supposed to meet me for breakfast.”

“I’m Dr. Cheryl Martinez. I will help you, but I need you to answer some questions, okay?” she moved him to a bench and kneeled in front of him. “Listen to me. Can you look at me? There you go. I can help you find Dione, but can you tell me what your name is?”

His voice sounded far away, “I’m Michael Vale.”

“Okay, Mr. Vale—”

“Dr. Vale. I’m Dr. Michael Vale.”

Dr. Martinez nodded slowly before a grin broke her lips. “Yes, yes—you’re Dr. Mike. I’ve seen you on YouTube. Now, what can….”

Reality hit him like a truck once he heard his shortened name. He needed to see Dione. Now. He snapped out of his panic-induced fog and met the doctor’s gaze with a renewed intensity. He pulled out his clinic badge and ID and handed them to the woman in front of him. “My name is Michael Vale, and I am looking for Dione Samuels. She probably came in last night via ambulance or with another doctor named Lucas Mackey.”

Dr. Martinez stood up, encouraging Mike to do the same. She shook his hand and ushered him through the lobby. “Lucas mentioned someone coming by this morning. I’ll take you to him, and he can fill you in.”

They found Lucas in a staff lounge, wearing plain clothes and shuffling through a manila file folder. He looked like shit. If it weren’t for the stethoscope around his neck and the lab coat on his chair, Lucas could have easily passed as a bum. As soon as Cheryl closed the door, Lucas’ eyes flashed up. His face fell when he saw his old friend standing there. Mike could not have looked much better, yet _he_ had slept all night whereas Lucas looked like a zombie. He rose from his chair and embraced Mike lightly, but the rigidity in Mike’s spine was essential to keeping him upright. The hug ended shortly after it began. Lucas gestured for Mike to sit.

“I don’t want a chair. I want answers.”

Lucas’ typically warm voice was icy. “Sit down and I will tell you as much as I can.”

“As much as you can? What the hell does that mean?”

“Mike, sit down.”

A staring match between two alpha males, both of whom were exhausted and frayed. Mike finally caved and sat across from him. “Okay, I’m sitting. What do you mean you can only tell me so much?”

“You know the rules, Mike. I would be violating HIPPA if I told you more than I should. Besides, Di isn’t my patient. I’m lucky to know anything at all.”

“But I’m a doctor!”

“Not at this hospital.”

“Lucas, come on. This is Dione we’re talking about, not some stranger.”

“Rules apply to our friends, too.”

“Dione isn’t my friend. She’s my…” Mike cut himself off when he felt a balloon sprout in his throat.

Lucas eyed him carefully before offering, “She’s your dogwalker. Right? That’s why you called Maya, isn’t it? Because you wanted to know when Dione was going to show up to take care of your dogs?”

“Well, yes but—”

“If rules are strict for friends, they’re even more stringent for employers.”

“No, I’m not—it’s not—she’s not _just_ my dogwalker. I mean, yes, she walks my dogs, and—”

“And you pay her to do that, right?”

“Yeah, but there’s more to it than that!”

It was quiet for a tense moment before Lucas tapped his pen on the table. “Mike, listen. I get it, okay? You’re concerned for someone you care about, and you want to know everything. But I still have to respect the patients and doctors and rules I work with. It’s not about you right now. It’s about Dione.”

A single tear floated over Mike’s cheek before he choked out. “I’m in love with her.”

Lucas nodded but said nothing, his gaze intense and judgmental. He closed the folder, slid it across the table. “What happens when I’m not looking is not my business. And suddenly, I’m parched. Can I get you something from the vending machines?”

Mike shook his head, wiped his eyes. He waited for the door to close before flipping the folder open. As he read, the previous night started to take shape in his mind. No matter how much he read, though, nothing made sense. The door opened again, and Maya surprised him. She sat across from him and filled him in on the drama of the last sixteen hours.

“She was so out of it, Mike. I didn’t see her when she came in, but apparently, she wasn’t wearing a coat or jacket or anything. She just walked into the studio in her shorts and tanktop and sneakers. Do you have any idea how cold it was last night? When I finally got to her, her skin was on fire. Maggie said she seemed confused and totally disoriented at the beginning of class and forgot some of the regulars’ names. Classes start. Maybe 10 minutes pass and then a loud splat, and the most horrific scream. Amber ran to get me, Maggie called the ambulance, Jay tried checking her vitals without moving her neck too much. Mike, I thought she was dead. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

“But what happened?” his palms were starting to sweat, dampening the pages in his hands. He rubbed them against his jeans.

“She tried doing an inversion at the top of the pole, but she was so weak and her legs just…gave out.”

His voice lowered to a growl unintentionally. “And _nobody tried to stop her_?”

“It’s Dione. You know how she is. Have you ever tried to get her to do anything, let alone stop her from doing something she wants to do? She’s the most stubborn person I know.”

He _had_ tried, just a few days ago. Mike buried his head in his hands, mumbling into the table. “Di fell at my house last week. She just…collapsed right there. She said it was normal. That she falls all the time. I knew she should’ve gotten checked out.”

“Mike, hey—she’s going to be fine, okay? They took all these tests and images and they say she’s going to be fine. One of Lucas’ really good friends is taking care of it. She’s the head of neurology, the best neurosurgeon in the Tri-State area.”

“She has to have surgery?!”

“What? No, no—she’s not…well I don’t know—”

“You _don’t know_?!”

A deep voice startled them both. “Mike, don’t yell at her.” Lucas was back, holding a juice box in one hand and a pudding cup in the other. “We’re doing the best we can, okay? Come with me. I’ll take you to her room.”

They walked in agitated silence until they stopped in front of a closed door. Dione’s name was written on the placard. As Mike went for the handle, Lucas stopped him. “Listen, Mike, before you go in there, we need to talk. This is not the first time that Dione has ended up in the ER. She has self-destructive tendencies, but I haven’t seen her this bad since her mother’s funeral. Maya and I have been racking our brains trying to figure out what the hell could have thrown her off so badly that she stopped eating, stopped sleeping. She has so much caffeine, and we found trace amounts of cocaine in her system—truthfully, I’m surprised her heart hasn’t stopped. Can you think of any reason she would go off the rails like this?”

“Wait, hang on, what? You said cocaine? She told me explicitly she hates coke because of the environmental impact. Was she drugged?” Mike felt the earth tilt beneath him.

“I don’t know. She hasn’t been awake long enough for me to ask.”

“And…and her mom?”

“It was about 7 years ago, I think. She had late-stage cervical cancer, and there were some complications. Do you know if someone passed away recently? Maybe a student or a faculty member at NYU? I can’t think of anyone. Maya called her grandmother in Martinique, and apparently everyone is fine.”

“Um…no, I…I don’t know. She fell at my house a few days ago…smacked her head on the floor. I should have just taken her to the hospital then,” Mike whispered to himself.

“No, no. This is more than a few days,” Lucas lowered his voice. “Mike, she’s lost weight. Like…a lot of weight. The coke has been in her system for around 24-36 hours. The caffeine intake seems extreme, which makes me think at least a week or more. Was she behaving any differently with you?”

The memory rushed at him. Dione jolting awake, wrapping herself around him. The heavenly sounds she made when he choked her. Feeling her body pulse around his member. Hearing her whisper that she wanted him. Seeing her cry. Watching her run away.

He shook his head and swallowed the guilt he thought he'd buried. “She left me. I don’t know what happened, but one minute she was fine and the next she was crying.”

“Did you do something to hurt her?” The violent edge in Lucas’ voice was disarming.

“She said I didn’t, but she wouldn’t tell me why she was crying. I would never do something to intentionally hurt her. I love her. I—”

“Does she know that?”

Mike fell silent.

Nodding, Lucas opened the door. “She’s been under a general sedative because of her nightmares, but we pulled her a few hours ago. She should be waking up soon. Be gentle with her, okay?”

Mike peeked inside the room, but it was dim. He could barely make out the body shivering beneath the starch white sheets. As he approached the bed, his blood turned cold. Dione was pale with purple bags beneath her eyes. Her lips were cracked. The round cheeks of her face were much thinner than what he’d seen just last week. She looked fragile, broken. Her hair was matted around her face and tied in a sloppy bun on top of her head. The monitors beside her blinked and flashed and beeped steadily, which Mike tried to remind himself was a good sign. Pulling a chair up, he sat and took her hand in his. He braced his elbows on her bed and brought her hand to his lips.

“Dione, please…I lo—I just…I miss you. Please wake up,” he mumbled against her skin.

*****

Time ticked by slowly, but soon enough, Michael found himself startled awake by a quick tap on his shoulder. A nurse gestured for him to let go of Dione’s hand, which he did begrudgingly. He checked his watch: 4:27pm. His stomach grumbled in protest at its emptiness. The nurse eyed him and smirked, “You the husband?”

“What makes you say that?” his brows furrowed anxiously.

“My mistake. You just look like…never mind.” She shook her head and gestured to the stack of pudding cups on Dione’s tray table. “You’re welcome to have one, if you’re hungry. Lucas says you’re friends.”

A loud growl echoed inside his body, but he declined. “Maybe I’ll uh…hit the cafeteria. Stretch my legs a bit. Thank you, though.”

With every step a stabbing pain shot up his back. He walked to the office where he first found Lucas. Just outside the door, he could hear Lucas and Maya arguing. He stood with his ear against the wood.

“…not strong enough to be alone right now. I’m worried about—” Lucas was muttering.

“I can stay home, and she can stay at our house until—”

“Maya, you’re not staying home. You planned this all out. If anyone’s staying, it’s going to be me.”

“No, honey—you’ve been saving vacation days for this trip, and she doesn’t really trust you like that, ya know? She loves you, but she hates doctors. She’ll reject any kind of support from you just to be spiteful. I might be able to get her to open up though.”

“Didn’t you try last week? She hasn’t been saying much to anyone lately.”

“Do you think she could go to my mom?”

“We can’t just put her on a cross country flight by herself to meet your mother in Sacramento. Besides, isn’t Jane in charge of Christmas this year? No, there has to be another option.”

The pause in conversation was brief as Mike nudged the door open and said with perfect stubbornness. “Dione will come with me for Christmas.”

Maya eyed him for a moment. “Really? What’s your plan?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Lucas glared at him with suspicion.

“Let’s just hear him out, okay?”

Mike cleared his throat. “Well, Dione was originally supposed to watch my dogs over the holiday, and I was supposed to be on a flight to Buffalo earlier this afternoon. But plans change. Whenever Dione gets discharged, then we can load up my car with the dogs and drive to my parents’ house tonight or tomorrow. My plans are much more flexible than a cruise around the Caribbean, and it’ll be easier on Dione to ride for a few hours rather than fly, and Dione loves the dogs. What do you say?”

Maya was teary-eyed with relieved exhaustion, but Lucas wasn’t convinced. She pulled her husband aside and whispered harshly to him for a moment before turning back to Mike with a smile. “Thank you so much. She’s going to be mad at you, at us, for thinking she needs a babysitter, but it’s what the doctor orders. She’ll also think she’s ruined your holiday, so that might make her even more distant.”

He gave an earnest grin, “Nothing I’m unprepared for, Maya. I’ve been on the receiving end of Di’s silent treatment before.”

She stared at him curiously before folding her hands, “No, wait. This is a bad idea. We should just—”

“Look, it’s either I stay with Dione in New York over the holidays, or Dione comes with me to Buffalo.”

There was a knock at the door. All three of them turned to see a nurse step in, “She’s starting to wake up.”

Maya jumped and started forward, but the nurse held up his hand. “She asked to see you, Dr. Mackey.” Lucas disappeared down the hallway, his shoulders slumped forward.

Mike turned to Maya with his hands on his hips and said firmly. “I am in love with her.”

“I know,” she said.

“You know?”

She slid into a seat at the conference table. “Of course, I know. I’ve known for weeks.”

“But…how? I only just—”

“Anytime the two of you are in the same room, you’re constantly seeking her out. Whenever she talks, you just stare at her in awe. You have the doe eyes of a lovestruck teenager in a cheesy 80s romcom when all of the violins start to play, and doves are released somewhere, and the scene gets all faded around the edges.”

He prepared to retort but faltered. It was useless. In fact, the more he considered it, he’d probably been in love with Dione for far longer than he knew. He thought back on their interactions, their arrangement. When they first met that day at the park, his only thought was about her mouth. She had the prettiest lips he’d ever seen, with a smile that had him feeling wobbly. Then to see her again that night. The things he wanted to do to her when he found her snooping around his office…. All the times she’d caught him gazing at her or ogling her, and she never went away.

Surely, she had to feel something for him, too, right?

All the compromises he’d asked her to make, which she agreed to without protest…that had to mean something. She slept over when he asked. She offered to help him whenever he needed. She even agreed not to have sex with other people, so the two of them could enjoy their time together without worry. She sat with him all night to work on videos, and when he started getting grumpy, she massaged his scalp. What’s more intimate than someone easing your tension without being asked to?

Before he could think too much on it, Lucas reappeared in the office. Mike jumped to his feet, questions swirling on his tongue, but Maya beat him to it. “How is she?”

Lucas shrugged, “She’s alive.”


End file.
